Lazy Days (12 page)

The pioneers now traveled through rolling hills covered
with grasses and nary a tree in sight. Beyond the hills, far in the distance,
steep mountains rose in majestic beauty. To avoid the ruts of wagons gone
before them, as well as the ruts of their own wagons, the prairie schooners
traveled several abreast, like a small herd of animals migrating westward
following their lead beast, Captain Jones. Hallie chuckled at the vision in her
mind.

As if conjuring Captain Jones up, he cantered Midnight
to their wagon. "Howdy, Cooper, Miz Wells, Tim."

"Good morning, Captain. It's a beautiful
day," Hallie responded.

"That it is. I always enjoy this part of the
journey. The travelin's easy and the scenery spectacular."

Cooper said, "We should reach Fort Kearney in
a couple of days. Don't you think?"

"Yep. Once we get there, we'll regroup,
check supplies, and then head out after a day or so." Captain Jones
glanced at Tim. "I'm gonna ride around the train; check things out. Would
you like to hop on the back of Midnight and come along? Two eyes are better 'n
one."

Tim shouted, "That'd be great!"

Captain Jones looked slightly embarrassed.
"Er, I guess I should'a asked yer ma if it was okay first."

Tim turned pleading eyes on his mother. Hallie
laughed. "It's perfectly fine. Tim was getting bored anyway."

Tim grinned as Captain Jones reached down to
haul him up behind him. Before he nudged his horse away, the captain scowled
and pointed in the distance. His voice sounded both sad and angry. "There
used to be a lone tree over that-a-way. It was a trail marker we even called
The Lone Tree. Just imagine, in this vast grassland, that single tree withstood
the elements for probably hundreds of years…but it sure couldn't withstand man.
It was like a sentinel suddenly chopped down; literally." He shook his
head. "It happened back in the late forties." He shook his head again.
"The insensitivity of people boggles the mind."

After the captain and Tim galloped away, Hallie
tried to concentrate on the beauty around her, but her gaze kept being drawn to
Cooper's broad back. Since finding him with Clarissa and his subsequent explanation
of the kiss she'd seen, and then her own admission of Clarissa's visit to ask
permission to pursue him, she had avoided him. Having Tim around had helped in
that endeavor. Now it was just the two of them walking the grassland with the
closest wagon shouting distance away.

Hallie wished things could go back to the way they
were in Westport when they had talked about supplies and concentrated on
preparing for the journey. She focused on distant mountain peaks for a short
time before returning her gaze to Cooper. He moved with an easy grace, but was
as rugged as the terrain they trod upon. And, like the mountains ahead of them,
there was much to be discovered. God help her, she wanted to know his secrets.
She wanted to know what caused the sadness in his eyes. Was it more than just
the war? Thomas, her beloved husband, had always been an open book. He had spoken
freely of his feelings, dreams, aspirations, and he'd encouraged her to speak
freely of hers. Their relationship had always been an easy one. He never tied
her stomach in knots or made her wax hot and cold just by being in his
presence.

Hallie's thoughts took an unexpected turn. Because
she had never been with any man—in the biblical sense—besides Thomas, she
figured their intimate life was typical of every other married couple. It
seemed … adequate. Thomas never forced himself on her and if she declined his
amorous advances, he never pursued her. Since he never demanded, she often went
along with his desire just to please him. All-in-all, their bedroom activities
had been—the same word came to Hallie's mind … adequate.

Hallie had a feeling that nothing with Cooper
would ever be just adequate. Even now, watching him, her heart hammered and her
breathing quickened.

"Hallie, are you going to stare a hole in
my back? Or is there something you want to say?" Cooper called without
turning around.

She inhaled sharply. "I don't know what
you're talking about."

Cooper chuckled. "Okay, have it your
way."

After several minutes, she said, "Well, I
do have a question." She hastened to add, "but you don't have to
answer if you don't want to."

Typical of Cooper, he answered,
"Shoot."

In spite of her nervousness, Hallie smiled.
"I know that you were a soldier in the war, but what did you do before
that?"

Cooper was quiet for so long she was about to
apologize for overstepping her bounds, when he answered, "I worked for
large ranches driving longhorns to market. Mostly the drives were along the
Shawnee Trail from Texas to Missouri."

Hallie chanced another question? "Were you
born in either of those states?"

"Yes—West Texas."

"Do you miss being there?"

"Sometimes."

Thus far their discussion went on without Cooper
turning around.

Hallie didn't know what possessed her but she
suddenly blurted, "Have you ever been married?"

Cooper paused, continued walking, but still
didn't turn around. "Why do you want to know?"

Hallie couldn't believe she'd been so brazen and
wanted to crawl under a rock, but there were no rocks in sight. Instead of
apologizing, however, sudden indignation came to her rescue.

"I'm just making conversation. Usually,
when people are around each other day after day they converse. It's a simple
question, but I see that I've offended you, so I withdraw the question.
Instead, I'll ask another one. What genus of grass to you suppose it is that
we're walking on?"

Cooper came to a sudden halt and slowly turned
around. Hallie prepared herself for his wrath at her unreasonable, biting words.
Instead, laughter lines creased the sides of his mouth and eyes.

Still feeling indignant, she scowled at him.

"Yes. I've been married." His mouth
quirked, "and divorced."

Hallie's mouth formed a circle. "Oh. I'm so
sorry. I-I didn't mean to pry. I just wanted to make conversation."

Cooper laughed loudly. "Is there anything
else you want to know?"

Embarrassment in the shade of deep pink crept up
Hallie's complexion. "No. No. Nothing."
Liar.

After the monotony of rolling hills and
grasslands, the train finally arrived at Fort Kearney. Hallie expected a grand
military fort, but instead, found several unpainted wooden structures encasing
a center square, with a scattering of trees surrounding it. In contrast to many
long sod buildings haphazardly fanning out from the wooden ones, the first
sorry buildings actually appeared inviting. Between the trees, various
artillery equipment sat sentinel. Facing each other on opposite sides of the
square were the commander's home and the soldiers' barracks, both two stories
high. The other wooden buildings turned out to be officers' quarters, a
hospital, and a sutler's store.

Captain Jones called camp a short distance outside
the fort and many of the emigrants took the opportunity to visit and replenish
supplies. At dusk, the captain called a general meeting to discuss current "Important
Particulars."

Excitement fairly sizzled when he boomed from
the center of the gathering, "May I have everyone's attention!" The
buzz of voices ceased while they waited to hear what he had to say. "Reaching
Fort Kearney has brought us to the three hundred mile mark in our journey and
not quite a month on the trail. Now, so as to stay on schedule, we'll be
picking up the pace after leaving the fort."

He pushed his hat back, changed his mind and
removed it, slapped it against his thigh, and scanned the circle. He continued
matter-of-factly. "Other than a few broken axles, one river crossing
incident, and several disagreements among ya'll, we've had no serious setbacks.
But our travels are about to get tougher. We're only a few miles south of the
Platte River and we'll be following it, which includes the North Platte, for over
three hundred miles. Just so you know, the Platte is not a gracious river. It's
muddy and unpredictable. So don't let its shallowness fool you. Its currents and
quicksand are treacherous.

"As for using the water, you're gonna have
to sift the mud out. I sure hope you took my advice and stocked your barrels
with good water at our previous stops."

Again, he dusted his hat on his thigh and Hallie
slid her gaze sideways toward Cooper, thankful they had done everything
requested by the captain.

After breaking camp the next morning, Hallie
fortified herself emotionally for the coming journey. Her body already felt
strong from all the walking, but she wondered if she was emotionally ready for
what lay ahead.
I can do this. I can face whatever lies ahead.
Hearing
Cooper's crack of the whip and cry of, "Giddup," she suddenly felt
invincible.
With Cooper's guidance, Tim and I can do this.

It didn't take long to reach the Platte and
Hallie's first glimpse revealed a broad, muddy, slow moving river occasionally interspersed
with islands. Although the captain had said it was only four inches deep in
some places, the depth was impossible to determine through the murky water. Hallie
shuddered at the possibility of quicksand, remembering an incident from her
childhood.

She and her sister had traveled with their
parents several miles from their home to bring supplies donated by their church
to a widow and her teenage son. While Hallie and Lilah played pick-up-sticks
with the son in front of the fireplace, the widow had conversed with her
parents at the table and described her husband’s death in quicksand on their move
from Tennessee. Her descriptions had been highly detailed and when the woman cried,
"My boy barely escaped the same fate trying to rescue his pa," Hallie
had seen tears in his eyes. Then the woman sobbed, "Quicksand is the gate to
the pits of hell!"

Hallie shuddered again and turned to Tim,
admonishing him to never go near the river without her or Cooper. She finished
with, "Promise?"

"I promise, Ma."

After a long day of following the Platte, they
reached a much used campsite, which they shared with another train. The
pioneers from both groups welcomed the opportunity to mingle and before long
about a half dozen men had pulled out fiddles, and several others—including a
woman—harmonicas. The musicians started a lively tune and were soon joined by a
large-boned woman with frizzy gray hair, carrying her guitar. One of the older
couples in Hallie's group, quiet and unassuming, joined the festivities and
stood in front of the musicians, surprising everyone with their beautiful
voices and rich harmonies. A few jugs of whiskey were privately passed around,
which loosened the limbs of several couples, and soon young and old were
dancing country jigs.

Hallie smiled at the festivity and glanced
around for Cooper. Her gaze landed on Mrs. Pittance with her perpetually sour
face and disapproving glare. Sighing, she looked beyond her and saw Cooper leaning
against a wagon, the tip of his cigarette glowing as he took a draw on it. Sensing
she was watching him, his eyes shifted to hers and he tipped the brim of his
hat in a friendly gesture. Hallie nodded slightly, feeling embarrassed that he
had caught her seeking him out.

A tug on her arm brought her around. Tim asked,
"Ma, will you dance with me?"

Hallie hadn't danced since the last barn raising
she and Tim had attended with Thomas, and the memory of that lovely day brought
a wave of sadness. Tim loved dancing so, not wanting to disappoint him, she
said, "I'd be proud to dance with you."

He grinned, lightly encircling her waist with
one hand and holding her hand with his other. They had only danced a few
seconds when the song ended, but another one quickly took its place. The lively
tune brought laughter from Hallie, and Tim said, "Ma, I'm always going to remember
this night."

* * *

Cooper took another drag of his cigarette and
watched Hallie dancing with her son. When she tilted her head back and laughed
at something Tim said, he admired her long, graceful neck. In the firelight, her
skin glowed pink. A few escaped tendrils of hair, the color of sandalwood, lay
possessively over one breast, the same breast he had seen the night of her
bath; the breast he wanted to smooth his rough palm over to feel its softness.
Slow
down, Cooper. Change the direction of your thoughts.

A nearby sound pulled his gaze away from Hallie.
Oh hell!

"Hello, Cooper," Clarissa practically
purred. She wasn't alone. "I'd like you to meet Sharon."

Sharon, closer to Cooper's age and showing the toll
of her profession, ran a finger across her lips and down her neck to the swell
of her breasts. "It's a pleasure meeting you, Cooper. We've spoken a few
times when you checked our wagon for mechanical problems…but that's not the
same as a personal chat, and there's nothing like a hoedown for getting to know
someone." She reached a hand and stroked it across Cooper's chest, leaving
no doubt as to her meaning.

Cooper took a final drag on his cigarette,
almost burning his fingers, before flipping it to the ground and grinding it
with his boot heel, studying the movement. Glancing back up, he decided
truthfulness was his best line of defense. "Ladies, I hope you don't take
this the wrong way because I'm right honored by your attention, and you and
your companions are mighty desirable, but I'm not inclined to partake of any
distractions while on this train. I need to keep all my faculties about
me." He paused before finishing, "Are you gettin' my meaning?"

Clarissa frowned, looking petulant, but Sharon
smiled, cast a glance in Hallie's direction, and said, "Oh, yes, I'm
seeing your meaning."

Now it was Cooper's turn to frown.

Sharon stepped closer until her breasts grazed
his chest, giving him a look he figured was intended to show him all he was
missing. In a husky voice, she said, "It's your loss, Cooper. But if you
change your mind, me and Clarissa are only a few wagons away."

Cooper returned her stare without flinching.
"I'll remember that, ma'am." He stepped backward and tipped his hat
politely. "Excuse me, ladies."

* * *

When the music ended, Hallie said breathlessly, "Tim,
thank you for the lovely dance!"

"I had fun, Ma." Already his attention
was directed across the camp. "Can I go play with my friends?"

"Of course. Check back with me soon,
though."

"Okay, Ma."

Hallie waved a hand to cool her burning face, not
sure if it was from the exertion of dancing or having been caught by one of the
fancy ladies watching Cooper. The fancy woman had shifted her gaze from Cooper toward
Hallie and smiled, as if they shared a secret. Embarrassed, Hallie had returned
a quick smile, not wanting to appear rude.

* * *

By the third day of following the winding, sludgy,
Platte River through treeless rolling hills, Hallie distracted her boredom by mentally
preparing her land for planting and laying out the floor plan of her new cabin
for the thousandth time. The noon break interrupted her daydream and after lunch
cleanup, she settled into the back of her wagon to rest before Captain Jones
again called for departure. However, restlessness soon had her up again. She
decided to join Tim, who was visiting the Hankersons. Cooper had left earlier
for a meeting with the leaders.

As happened during the mid day rest, the wagons were
not circled, but ran parade style along the Platte, and the Hankersons were at
the opposite end of the train from Hallie. When she reached their wagon, no one
was around, so she continued her walk a little farther down the banks of the
river. The warm sun and gentle breeze soon had her daydreaming again.

The river meandered around a hillock and before
she realized, she was out of sight of camp. Just as she was about to turn
around, a woman's scream shattered the peaceful day. The terror in the scream
jolted Hallie into action and she bolted forward, searching for the source. The
woman screamed again and her words sent chills up Hallie's spine. "Someone
help me! My baby's in the quicksand."

Rounding the far side of the hill, she came upon
a scene that turned her blood cold. A toddler had wandered about thirty feet
into the mire of Platte quicksand, his flailing arms only sending him deeper
into the mud. His mother, at the edge of the pit, twisted around frantically looking
for help, but didn't see Hallie. The poor woman sobbed and started forward to
save her child. Just as Hallie started to yell at her not to enter the mud, Tim
appeared at the top of the hill, shouting, "I'll get him!"

Now it was Hallie's turn to scream. "No,
Tim! Don't go in the quicksand!"

By now the child was up to his tummy and crying
pitifully. Tim glanced over his shoulder, saw his mother, but didn't slow his
progress. He waded in toward the child.

Hallie reached the mother and jerked her around.
"Run to camp and get help!" The woman appeared not to hear and
continued her hysterics. When she attempted to break free of Hallie's grasp and
rush into the mud again, Hallie was left with no option but to slap her hard
across the cheek. She knew there was little time. "Run to camp and get
help!"

The young mother gulped air, focused on Hallie
for a second, and then took off running like the wind.

Hallie lifted her head to the heavens.
What
now?

Bringing her gaze back to the children, she
yelled to Tim that help was coming. He was now beside the child and lifting him
into his arms. But as the boy's body came out of the mud, Tim sunk to his thighs.
Frantically glancing along the banks of the river, Hallie searched for anything
in the treeless land to assist in saving them. On her second pass, she blinked
to be sure she was looking at a miracle—a partially buried tree limb. Running
to retrieve it, she tugged, but it was stuck in the reeds and mud.

She yelled at Tim. "I found a tree limb.
Hang on. Make your body relax. If you fight the mud, you'll sink faster."

Vaguely, she saw Tim trying to calm the
terrified child. On her knees she clawed at the sludge holding the limb fast and
used all of her strength to try to tug it from the mire. Her muscles burned,
but she wouldn't stop. Finally, with a sucking sound, it broke free and she
fell backward. She quickly regained her footing, but determined the branch
wasn't long enough to reach the children. She pushed her petticoat down to her
knees, but she was shaking so bad, and her skirt so mud laden, she had trouble
stepping out of it. She cried, "Help me, Lord. Help me, Lord."

Using all of her strength yet again, she ripped a
side seam from top to bottom and jerked the fabric from her body. Next, she
tied one end of the petticoat around one end of the limb. Even as she worked,
she waded deeper into the Platte, praying she could get within tossing distance
of the children before reaching quicksand herself. She swung the limb forward
hoping the cloth would reach the children. Her first attempt fell short.
Drawing the limb and fabric back, now muddy and heavier, she inhaled, held her
breath, glanced at the heavens, prayed again, and tossed again.

This time the end of the petticoat was close enough
for Tim to grab onto. She yelled, "I'm going to start walking backward.
Hang on tight."

Slowly, she retreated until a taunt line was created
between herself and her son. The toddler screamed and started fighting, so she
paused and waited while Tim attempted to quiet the boy. The child threw himself
backward and Hallie's body shook with fear. Tim and the child both sunk to
their waists.