A Journey of the Heart Collection (31 page)

His sister chuckled. “So I have you to thank for all this packing?”

Uncertainty darkened his eyes. “Aren't you glad you get to see Amelia?”

Sarah ruffled his blond hair. “Very excited. So thank you.”

His smile broadened. “You're welcome.”

Both women were almost sick with excitement and nerves as they pulled out of the fort two days later. Emmie was curious to see something of the countryside. She'd already begun to chafe at the restrictions on her movements in the fort. In thirty-five days she'd only been out of the confines of the fort once on that picnic to the meadow.

They boarded the ambulance, a heavy wagon
outfitted with a straw mattress and canvas sides rolled up to let the breeze in. A canteen hung near the roof with the lid off to allow the water to cool in the breeze. Rand had rigged up a padded bench seat along each side for them to ride on, and the rest of their belongings were packed into every available inch of space. By the time they'd gone a mile, both women wished they had a horse to ride. The ambulance had no springs, and they were jarred and thrown about with every pothole as they moved with the troop of forty men.

They stopped for lunch and the women got down. Emmie drew deep breaths of sage-scented air as she bolted down the beans and bacon the cook presented. The bacon was tough so she ate around it.

“I wish there was such a thing as a portable privy,” Sarah whispered. “Can you bring the blanket and come with me?”

The women hurried off a short distance on the far side of a scraggly cottonwood tree, and Emmie held the blanket up as a screen. Above their heads the branches swayed with the breeze, and Emmie caught a whiff of some sweetly scented autumn wildflower. The gurgle of the clear creek to their right muted the sounds of the army camp behind them.

“That's one bad thing about being pregnant,” Sarah said. “You can't wait very long. I don't know how I'd manage without another woman along.” She hurriedly rearranged her skirts, then took her turn holding the blanket for Emmie.

“Hurry,” she said. “I think they're about ready to go, and I don't think they saw us leave.”

By the time they started back, the ambulance was pulling away without them in it. They ran, shouting for the soldiers to stop. Rand saw them and halted the procession.

His gaze darted over Sarah's shoulder into the woods as he took her arm and helped her to the ambulance. “Don't ever go off like that again without telling me. We never know when we're going to run into hostiles this far from the fort.” His lips flattened, and he glowered at both of them. “You know what happened last time.”

Sarah flushed and tossed her head. “It didn't turn out so bad. I made some new friends.”

“And almost got killed, and Jacob too.” His glare softened. “Sorry, Green Eyes, but you scared me half to death. Please, let me know next time, okay?”

Sarah looked contrite. “You're right. I should have told you. I will next time.”

“What's he talking about?” Emmie was shocked at the ruckus their little necessary errand had caused.

Sarah sighed, then picked up the knitting she'd been working on before lunch. The little yellow booties she was making were half finished. “I went off by myself on a ride and Indians took me. But they weren't warriors, just Laramie Loafers, and it wouldn't have happened if your brother hadn't put them up to it.”

“Ben? You've seen him? Why didn't you tell me before this?”

Sarah stopped a moment, then sighed and went on. “The Sioux left me in a cabin for Ben, but I got away from him and some hostile Sioux found me. Little Wolverine was a young Sioux who respected Rand because of an earlier battle, and he protected me until Rand found me.” She shook her head and sighed again. “Jacob was injured by a bear while they were out searching for me. So now, Rand keeps a close watch on me.”

Emmie could tell her friend was uncomfortable talking about Ben, but this was as good a time as any to clear the air. The entire time since she'd arrived, she knew they both had been avoiding the subject of her brother. She noticed Sarah's downcast expression. “I
don't have any illusions about my brother's character, Sarah. I lived with him, remember?”

Sarah took a deep breath. “That's not all, Emmie. There's something I've put off telling you. I didn't want to hurt you after you'd been through so much.”

Emmie's stomach tightened. “What is it?”

“Ben was killed in a fall from his horse while fleeing the Sioux. Labe told Rand.”

Emmie looked down at her hands, then back at Sarah. She wasn't sure how she felt about Ben, but she cared about Labe. He'd been good to her in his clumsy way. “Is Labe all right?”

Sarah nodded. “He joined up with a group of miners passing through here a couple of months ago. They were headed up the Bozeman Trail to the goldfields in Montana.”

So much death. Everywhere she looked there was death. First Monroe and now Ben. She had no idea how she came to be there, but she suddenly found herself sobbing against Sarah's shoulder. She didn't know why she was crying. She'd never been close to Ben, but he was her older brother, and now that he was gone, she was even more alone in the world. She'd probably never see Labe again either.

By evening the wind picked up and began to moan through overhanging rocks. Black thunderheads rolled in over the tops of the bluffs and jagged flashes of lightning lit the roiling undersides.

“Get the horses tied down, and check on the cattle,” Isaac shouted after the supply train went into corral formation. His gaze went to the ambulance conveying the women. They'd be frightened. He urged his horse in that direction.

The wind struck with a fearful punch and caught at the canvas of the ambulance. He saw Emmie struggling to unroll one side of the canvas while Sarah fought with the other side. After quickly dismounting, Isaac leaped to help them. Needles of cold rain pierced him as he grabbed hold of the wet fabric.

“Are you all right?” he shouted above the thunder and rain.

Emmie pushed the heavy wet hair out of her face and nodded. Looming out of the driving rain, Rand dashed to secure the canvas on Sarah's side.

“Isaac,” Emmie gasped. “Where did you come from? I thought you stayed behind in Fort Laramie.”

He tied the canvas back with the rope and grinned at her. “I've been on ahead scouting. You didn't think I would let a pretty gal like you get away, did you?”

Even with her hair plastered to her head and her dress covered with mud, he'd never seen a prettier sight. He patted her head and turned to tend to the frightened cattle.

Emmie pulled her shawl around her protectively. He'd patted her like—like she was a dog or a child. Was that how he saw her? She pushed away the prick of hurt and climbed back into the ambulance.

The storm cleared quickly and the procession moved on. Emmie found her eyes straying more often than she liked to Isaac's erect figure on the bay gelding. His burnished hair curled over his collar, and he was easy to pick out of the group. He seemed to have a kind and encouraging word for everyone. All the more reason for her not to believe him when he said she was beautiful. He was evidently one of those people who looked for the good in everyone. An admirable quality, she had to admit, but it made her more cautious.

“You ready to go back to Indiana?” Sarah asked when they took a short break in the middle of the afternoon.

“I thought about it,” Emmie admitted. “This wilderness is a fearful place. Even the storms are wilder.” Then she smiled. “But it is beautiful in a wild and savage way. I love the scent of sage in the wind and the deep, rich reds and browns of the earth. And I can't wait to get a closer look at the mountains.”

They saw wildlife everywhere. Elk, deer, jackrabbit, and once a small herd of buffalo off in the distance. Emmie wanted to get a closer look at the famous beast, but they hadn't come close enough to see well.

“That's why the Indians are so set on keeping this area,” Sarah told her when she mentioned the abundant game. “And since the Montana gold mines opened up and miners keep traipsing through on the Bozeman Trail, the game is beginning to thin out. Red Cloud is said to be gathering a large war band up in the Powder River area. He's promised a fight to the knife. Rand doesn't know where it will all end. He sees the Indians' point of view, but he knows we have to expand clear to the Pacific if this nation is going to thrive. We need
the railroad completed and the telegraph to all cities. The Indians won't stand by and see it happen without a fight.” She shivered. “It scares me when I think about it. Every time Rand goes out on detail, I'm terrified he won't come back.”

Emmie hadn't realized it was so dangerous. So far she hadn't seen a single hostile Indian. It was hard to imagine that the problem was as severe as Sarah said.

Rand called a halt around six o'clock. After beating the brush for rattlesnakes, three men pitched a tepee-like structure called a Sibley tent for the ladies.

“What are you doing?” Emmie asked Rooster as he uncoiled a large horsehair rope.

“Snakes won't cross a horsehair rope.” He laid it on the ground all around the tent and bedrolls. “Reckon they don't like them hairs ticklin' their bellies. Rattlers ain't nothin' to mess with, and we don't want to lose our only wimmenfolk. 'Course it's late in the year for snakes, but it's so much warmer than usual, I don't 'tend to take any chances.”

Emmie wasn't sure if he was telling the truth, but his words sounded comforting, so she and Sarah carried their clothes and blankets inside and tried to make the interior comfortable. When they came out
of the tent, one of the men had gotten a blazing fire going. The aroma of stew made Emmie's mouth water. She had hardly touched her lunch, but now she was famished. She ate two plates of the delicious stew and washed it down with the water in the battered tin cup Rooster gave her.

While four of the men went off to stand guard duty after supper, Rand brought out the harmonicas. The plaintive notes of “Home Sweet Home” mingled with the crackle of the fire and the howl of some animal in the hills to their left.

Joel nestled close to his sister's side. “Jimmy doesn't know how to play the harmonica, I bet.”

“What's that?” Emmie knew her voice was too shrill when several of the soldiers snickered and Joel grinned.

“It's just a pack of coyotes,” Isaac said. “They're more scared of you than you are of them.”

Emmie shivered at another howl. “I wouldn't be too sure of that,” she said shakily.

Rand played a couple of hymns and the men joined in song. Rooster had a surprisingly deep bass voice and Isaac sang tenor. But it had been a long day on the trail and they were all yawning, so Rand sent them all off to find their bedrolls.

Isaac stood waiting for them by the ambulance. “I'll be right outside if you need anything.” His gaze lingered on Emmie.

She let him escort her to the tent, and her pulse leapt at the press of his warm fingers on her arm. It meant nothing though—only that she missed a man's touch.

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