The Heart's Frontier (9 page)

B
y the time Luke and Bo led the procession back to the herd, the sun had sunk midway in the sky toward the western horizon. The oxen proved to be a docile pair and followed alongside the small cart they had hired without much prodding. Jonas perched on the narrow bench alongside the blacksmith’s son, who had been recruited to help unload and then return the cart home. The female Switzers perched in the back amid their newly purchased provisions. Though he’d tried to catch Emma’s eye a couple of times, she’d kept her focus on overseeing the loading and her head turned away from him since they started.

All for the better, as far as Luke was concerned. A whole day wasted on good deeds was time enough. He’d been hired to do a job, and he intended to see it done sooner rather than later.

They arrived to find last night’s campsite deserted. Luke scanned the rolling hills on the far side of the wide river for signs of the herd and saw none. Good. Jesse had taken the initiative and led them on. But he didn’t like the looks of a dark cluster of clouds gathering to the northwest.

“We’ll need to cross here.” He raised his voice to be heard over the sound of the running water. “Jesse scouted ahead this morning and said there’s no good place to ford up ahead.”

In fact, the water looked a bit deeper than it had earlier, and the current a touch stronger. That storm must be dumping a load of rain upstream.

“Is our wagon nearby?” Jonas asked.

Luke pointed. “About a half mile that way. Jesse said it was on the far bank.” He’d also said it was mired to the axle, but Luke didn’t see the need to remind Jonas of that at the moment. He’d see for himself soon enough.

Herding the oxen through the water proved to be an easy task. Luke rode around the cart and came up behind them, and with almost no effort they obediently splashed across with no problem and continued along the herd’s trail as obediently as a couple of well-trained dogs.

Bo was a little more hesitant. He wasn’t overly fond of water. Luke had a swimming horse he used for deeper crossings, but of course the remuda was with the herd, with any luck miles away from here.

Bo stepped gingerly across the sandy river bottom, coaxed by Luke’s gentle clucking. The kid driving the cart had obviously spent some time on the trail with this rig, because he urged his mule forward with an expert flick of the rope. When Luke reached the bank on the other side, he stopped on the grass and watched as the cart rocked on its way across. In the back, the girls pulled their feet up into the bed to keep from getting wet. Emma leaned over to look into the water, the laces from her cap dangling over the side. In only a few minutes, the cart was up the narrow bank and onto dry ground. All in all, it was one of the easier crossings he’d seen on this drive.

The signs of the herd’s passing were impossible to overlook. The ground had been well grazed and trampled dry. Luke instructed the boy on the approximate location of the Switzers’ wagon and then rode on. Bo stretched his legs, and the trampled trail sped by beneath them. Luke let him have his head, enjoying the steady pounding of hooves against dirt, accompanied by the sound of running water at their side.

A tickle of disquiet disturbed his solitude when the feel of the wind blowing in his face changed. The rich, wild scent of distant rain tinted the air. As long as the storm carried only rain, the herd wouldn’t pose a problem. But all too often storms along the plains were accompanied by fierce lightning and thunder, and that’s what startled the beef into a stampede two nights ago. Once a stampede occurred, cattle remained jittery and prone to stampede again for days or even weeks afterward. Another stampede would put them in risk of missing their deadline.

Bo galloped up over a swell in the land, and Luke’s feelings of disquiet deepened. Not a mile ahead he caught sight of the tail end of a herd. He’d have to wait until he was closer to spot the Triple Bar brand, but he felt sure these were his cattle. Jesse and the others must have waited around for him after fording the river because they had only gained a few miles all day.

The numb wits! Why didn’t they push on?

Immediately, his irritation fled. Luke had no one to blame but himself. The task of leading the herd didn’t fall to Jesse. He was the trail boss. The decision of when to move and when to tarry fell on Luke’s shoulders alone. And he hadn’t been here to direct them.

He caught sight of a cluster of horses and riders at the river’s edge up ahead. Hard to tell at this distance, but he thought they might be his men or it could be the location of Jonas’s wagon. He urged Bo into a faster pace.

When he arrived he found Jesse, Willie, Charlie, and Griff wet to the skin and covered in mud. They stood on the shore staring down at the Switzers’ wagon. Luke took in the problem in an instant. Two of the wagon’s wheels had made it up to the bank after crossing the river, though one rested in a muddy low rut. The back wheels were still partly immersed in mucky water, one deeper than the other. In the back of the wagon rested the biggest piece of furniture he’d ever seen. His ma used to have a hutch similar to this one, but only about half this size. Mrs. Switzer’s piece leaned at a precarious angle in the tilted wagon. A large trunk sat beside it, up toward the front of the wagon bed.

Jesse broke away from the others and approached when he rode up. Water plastered his shirt to his body, and his boots made an unpleasant squishing noise with each step. After a quick glance at the fury in his face, Luke decided to keep his seat and speak to his friend from a safe distance on horseback.

“That…thing!” Jesse spouted, waving a finger behind him in the direction of the wagon. “It weighs a thousand pounds. There’s
no
way that wagon’s coming out of the river with that monstrous chunk of oak inside.”

The others trailed over, looking as wet and bedraggled. Charlie affirmed Jesse’s opinion. “The back wheels are mired pretty deep, boss, one worse than the other. I think the axle might have cracked too.”

Luke looked past them, where the water lapped at the lowest boards at the rear of the wagon. Jesse might be exaggerating the weight of that hutch, but not by much if Luke was any judge. It looked to be solid oak, which meant the weight was probably close to six hundred pounds. If the wagon’s axle was broken, Jonas would have a hard time fixing it with the hutch inside. No way would he be able to unload and reload it by himself, or even get it out of the river on his own.

A thought occurred to Luke. He glanced behind him. The Switzers were not yet in sight. What if he left now, before they arrived? He’d done all he promised. Getting their wagon unstuck wasn’t his responsibility. When they got here they would find their hutch, and Luke would have done his duty.

Even as he considered giving his men the order to mount up and head out, he knew he couldn’t do it.

The sooner I get them on their way, the sooner I can get on mine
.

“Where have you been, anyway?” Griff squinted suspiciously up at him. “Back in Gorham all this time?”

“I’ll tell you where he’s been.” Jesse unwrapped his bandana from his neck and made a show of squeezing out a stream of water. “He’s spent the day playing guardian angel to a bunch of
Aim
-ish people.”

He was standing beside Bo’s withers. Luke considered taking his boot out of the stirrup and awarding him a well-placed kick for his ornery tone. Instead, he affirmed the words with a nod at Griff and the others. “A man and three women. Bandits stole their belongings early yesterday and left them without a thing. I’m trying to see that they get where they’re going.”

The old man studied him a moment and then said, “Never hurts to do a good turn.” He gave Jesse a hard stare and then let his gaze sweep Charlie and Willie. “A man will never get anywhere in this world if he won’t lend a hand now and then. See that you boys remember that.”

Now it was Jesse’s turn to scowl, and Luke had to bite back a smile when he slapped his wet bandana against his thigh and stomped away toward his horse.

Luke dismounted. “The family will be along in a few minutes with a pair of oxen and a fresh load of supplies. The way I see it, the faster we get this wagon pulled out, the sooner we’ll be on our way.” He glanced at the young drag rider. “Willie, ride on up ahead to the chuck wagon and tell McCann we need a couple of coils of that thick rope he’s got. Maybe we can pull it out with horse power. Be quick, hear?”

Willie nodded and sprinted for his horse.

Jesse shouted toward Luke without bothering to look up from where he fiddled in his saddlebag. “That was my next suggestion!”

Luke exchanged a grin with Charlie and Griff. “I’m sure it was. If you’re looking for dry clothes in there, don’t bother. We’re not done with this yet.”

He watched Willie’s horse skirt past a couple of dozen head of cattle and then gallop toward the main part of the herd. Stragglers, about a hundred or so, milled around the area, their pace slowed without drag riders nudging them ahead. They had spread out in search of fresh grass farther than he liked.

“Griff, would you and Charlie head over that way and round up those cattle?” He pointed toward the hill. “Bring them back this way in case we need your horses to help haul this thing out of here, and then we’ll hurry them along toward the herd together.”

When they had gone, Luke found a dry spot to sit and started tugging off his boots. Now that they were alone, Jesse joined him.

“I had a feeling you’d get held up back there this morning.” He followed Luke’s lead and tugged off first one already soggy boot and then the other. “I tried to warn you, but you wouldn’t listen.”

Luke pulled off his socks and stuffed them down in his boots. “You did. And I owe you a steak dinner when we get to Hays, like I promised.” There. That was as close to
you were right
as he was willing to go.

He stripped off his shirt and spoke without looking at his friend. “Tell me something. Are you carrying a grudge against Amish people in general, or is it the Switzers in particular?”

The answer came immediately. “I got no problems with those folks. It’s just that we’ve come a long way on this drive, and it’s gone pretty well so far. You have a lot riding on this job, Luke, and I don’t want to see you throw it away on a woman you can’t have.”

“What makes you think I’m going to throw anything away? Or that I want a woman? We’re three days out of Hays, and the train pulls out of there in five.” Jesse shot him a look, and he conceded the unspoken point with a nod. “Yeah, okay. I’d like to have a safer margin, but we’ll make it. That’s what counts.” Stripped down to his breeches, Luke stood and folded his clothes into a neat bundle. When he’d placed them on the dry ground near his boots, he turned to give Jesse a hand up.

Jesse took it and held on for a minute, meeting his friend’s eyes with a penetrating stare. “It’s more than that, Luke. I’ve known you a long time, and I can tell something’s been eating at you for the past few weeks.”

Luke fought the urge to look away from his searching gaze. “You’re always reading something into my actions. What am I guilty of now?”

“You’re quieter than when we started. Moodier. The men have noticed it too. You don’t talk much, and you haven’t joined in on singing around the campfire at night like you used to. Mostly you sit off by yourself.” He hefted himself to his feet.

Luke tried to shrug off the comment with a laugh. “Could be I’ve taken enough ribbing about my singing voice. A man can stand being likened to a bellowing calf only so long.”

Jesse didn’t laugh. “I’m trying to decide if you’re sorry you took this job. Maybe you only did it because it pleased your pa. Or maybe you’re fed up with trail life.”

Were his inner struggles that apparent? Luke bent down to retrieve his hat from the ground. The burden of responsibility had weighed heavily on him lately. Things always got dodgy at the end of a drive, when the men had been in the saddle for months with few breaks. Squabbles broke out, complaints about the food increased, and heated arguments about poker hands around the evening campfire flared up. Because it fell to him to mediate, it was natural that he’d feel these more strongly as the trail boss than as a hired hand.