The Handsomest Man in the Country (7 page)

"Trahern. He's wearing Uncle Dem's things. You'll have to ask him."

Effie Lind was standing nearby with her daughter Eliza and offered to go from fire to fire with a couple of plates in her hand and get a little food from each family group. "That way you and your man will have a little time together. If we can't give you anything else, at least we can give you that."

"Thank you, Effie. That's a mighty thoughtful gift."

"Come along with me, then. We'll see what we can get." I put my coffee pot on Hedda's fire and took the plate she gave me.

Everyone was generous and I had to stop about halfway around the circle. "We'll get the rest tomorrow night," Effie declared.

It gave me a chance to talk to those I had had to cut short last night and made me feel more welcome than I'd felt before. We took our two plates over to the wagon, arriving just as Trahern got back. He had four fish strung on a line, already gutted and scaled. I explained what Effie had done.

"Thank you, Ma'am," he told her. "That was right neighborly of you. I'll put these fish aside for breakfast." He hung them up, still moving cautious-like so as not to re-open his wounds. "Where'll we eat?"

"On the wagon tongue." Usually we ate near the fire, but today we settled down right where we were and ate that food like we weren't going to get any other. He could put it away, that was for sure, and I got to thinking that I should've taken another plate or two and finished making the circle. Pa had been a good eater, but nothing like this man.

I was full before I had finished everything, so Trey cleaned up my plate, too. When we'd signed the marriage paper, he had written James Madison Trahern, but told me to call him Trey or Trahern. He'd never answered to anything else and probably wouldn't know who I was talking to if I did.

He gave a brief thanks for the food and we ate in silence, for eating is serious business when on a trip such as this. By the time we had finished, the coffee was ready. He was looking stronger every minute and when we were finished and everything put away, I got out the rest of Uncle Dem's things and offered them to him. It was twilight, but still light enough to see. He could use most of the things, and put them back after getting an idea what was there.

"I've got first watch tonight, so I'll need both pistol and rifle."

They were behind the seat and he took them out carefully and put a handful of shells into his coat pocket. The knife he slipped into a sheath underneath his shirt.

I was nodding by then and he wished me "Sleep well" as he walked away. We hadn't talked much and I wondered about the sleeping arrangements. Well, he would have to tell me; I'd never been married and didn't know what a man expected.

It never occurred to me that he might not either.

Next morning I woke to find him beside me, sound asleep on that big feather mattress. Now feathers are cozy and warm and you can dig yourself a hole and they'll come right over the top and close you in. A body can sleep warm on the coldest of night with just your nose peeking out or not. But feathers are not much given to getting folks together and I couldn't even tell he was there until I looked.

The camp was stirring so I dressed quick and took the mules and Comfort out to graze. This was man's work and I'd let my man do it once he was able to go longer between rests, but I figured he needed the sleep.

As it was, two hours later when I came back and hitched up and looked around, he had those fish fried and the coffee hot and he'd done one other thing.

He'd shaved. At last I could see what had been under all that black beard and my first thought was why he hadn't left it on.

I tell you he was the homeliest man I'd ever laid eyes on. Now I like mules better'n most horses and its not because of their looks, but I'd never seen the back end of a mule as ugly as this man. Of course he was still all gaunt and thin and sickly from the treatment the Indians had given him, but he'd never win any beauty prizes. Pa always warned me to judge a man by his character and not by his looks, but this man's character had better be considerable.

He had a square jaw, long face, high cheekbones and deep set eyes. His eyes greeted me, steady gray eyes that took in a lot of territory. "Eat up," he said, offering me a couple of fish and we dug in.

That fish was the best I'd ever tasted. He could cook, but most western men could do some basic cooking, it was cook or starve. His fire was small, big enough to do the job but small enough to cover with your hat. I made note of it, realizing that the rest of us made our fires too big and wasted fuel.

A body doesn't think of going easy on the fuel until he lives in a land where there ain't none. Around here you burned grass and buffalo chips and little bits of twigs and brush. It would be a crime to cut down the trees; there weren't enough of them and those few were needed for shade. Also the fire was easier to put out when we were ready to roll.

We pulled out first in line that morning and for the first time in days I wasn't eating dust. We left the Little Blue and headed northwest for the Platte, figuring to make Fort Kearney before the week was up.

It was mighty nice, sitting there beside him on the wagon seat with nothing afore us except those mules. We sat there quiet for awhile, just enjoying the morning, then we commenced to talking. We hadn't done much to get acquainted, we'd either been working or sleeping. To really talk, serious like, a body needs some time.

I asked him about these western plains for he looked like someone who knew how to survive out here and he did. He knew the plants and animals, the weather and the Indian tribes; how to survive a blizzard and what rivers could be counted on to have water. I wasn't going to get it all in one day, but if I could get him to talking a little every day, I'd sure get me an education. One that might keep me alive.

One thing, I wasn't going to have to worry none about food with that man around. He pointed out plants that were edible as we drove by them, things the Indians gathered and ate. They were few and far between, but they were there.

"Tomorrow morning I'll hunt us some fresh meat," he said.

"Sounds good. Uncle Dem wasn't much on hunting and we had to make do on what we could trade from the others."

"If it weren't for the Indians, you could've hunted; you're a good shot." Surprised, I looked my question at him and he added, "Web told me. Bragged on you. He also said I'd better marry you 'fore someone else beat me to it."

"He did, did he?"

"Figured you were in a corner, but beat down tired or you'd have put a gun to Hayes and told him to mind his own business."

His eyes had a twinkle in them and there was a lightening of the lines around his mouth. I smiled too. Web had figured it right. Already I was resenting what Hayes had done.

"Now the way I see it, you and I got married to keep them wolves away from your door. I never took kindly to shotgun weddings; a woman and man had better think well of one another before they try pulling in double harness. So I'll just keep them away until we reach a settlement and you decide what it is you want."

A body couldn't ask for a fairer deal than that. "And if I decide at that time I don't want to be married?"

"Then I'll set you free, Ma'am, and no harm done you."

He was a gentleman, more than any on that train, for he could have claimed a husband's rights if he wished and I would not have denied him. Resented him, maybe, but not denied him.

I had no love for this tall rawboned man, but my respect for him grew mightily right then. How glad I was I'd taken Web's advice and not gotten myself hitched to one of those others.

Now I'm not one to be contrary, but what he said just made me want to hang onto him harder. Although, if he wished to be shut of me, I wouldn't hold him neither, and I said so.

He just nodded, thoughtful like, and five minutes later, after my mind had already passed on to other things, he said, "I never meant that. I'll stay in double harness, long as you can put up with me. I reckon you're more woman than it'll ever be my fortune to find. I know what I look like and I'm no great talker. The ladies don't pay me no attention. Neither would you, 'cept for this fix you're in."

"Maybe so," I said and left it at that. The thought of that shared bed had made me nervous as a green-broke filly and his statement eased my mind somewhat. This would give me time to get to know him. We drove along in comfort, each to his own musing until I finally asked, "Where you from?"

"West Virginia, by way of Texas. I went down the Ohio when I was fourteen and been seeing country ever since. There's a spot of country out here to see. I've been to Mexico and California, came back to fight in the war but it was almost over."

"Where were you headed when the Indians got you?"

"Wyoming. Or Colorado. Towards the mountains."

The mountains sounded good to me. Having left my rolling Tennessee hills almost a month ago, the thought of any mountains appealed mightily.

This flat land lying unbroken for miles except for gullies and low mounds was fine if you liked that sort of thing. I preferred my land standing up, rising in front of me or sweeping away from under me.

After a few miles Trahern spoke again. "I thought I'd find some land, bring in some cattle and prove up. The Sweetwater sounded good. I was going to look at it, then drift south till I found a spot. What're your plans?"

For the first time since Uncle Dem had died I stopped long enough to realize I didn't have any. It made me laugh at myself. Here I'd been intent on getting to Oregon when there was no reason to go. None at all.

So I explained it to Trahern, how first my folks had died and sent me to my uncle and aunt's; then after they died too, I had kept on with the wagon train because I was already pointed that direction. It's easy to keep on drifting, for in that way no decisions need to be made. So I made my first one.

"I was traveling with Uncle Dem. Now I'll go with you, wherever; unless you don't wish me to."

He was silent for a long time, turning that statement around in his mind. I could see that it pleased him for he was nodding slightly; a quiet man and one who thought things over. “Web was tellin’ me ‘bout a place near Shoshone country. There’s a town and a fort down the river. Walla Walla. Excellent ranching country.”

"Do you have a stake?" I asked. Some men travel and never own more than what they are wearing on their backs, while others slowly build until they have something to show for their life. And some men, like my Pa, finally settle on land that is beautiful; a delight to the soul and the eye but not to the belly.

"Yes. I brought a herd up the Chisholm trail and sold them at Abilene."

"But didn't the Indians take what you had?"

His face darkened. Maybe I shouldn't be asking so many questions. "No. I banked my money in Abilene ‘fore I headed west."

So he was a careful man, looking to the future. He was also a muscular man with large hands and broad shoulders; he could probably split firewood with one blow. He wasn't a chewin' man or one to smoke, for he'd refused Uncle Dem's tobacco when I offered it to him.

My mules liked him and I was beginning to, too.

Later that day I took the hat and scarf from my head and tried to comb my hair. It'd been left uncombed too long and was like trying to curry out a horse's tail full of cockleburs. I was still too tired to struggle with it and was ready to get out the scissors when Trahern noticed my efforts and called me up front with him.

"Bring your comb," he said, so I did, figuring he wanted me to watch the mules while he rode off. He handed me the reins, but instead of leaving, took my comb and climbed over behind me and started untangling my mop. I hadn't had anyone do for me since I was in pigtails and it felt awfully good.

"I was about ready to cut it off," I declared. "It's been nothing but a nuisance on this trip."

"Don't you dare," he said as he patiently worked out the tangles. "If need be, I'll comb it every day until we get settled."

"Web figured it attracts the Indians."

"Web's probably right, but even if you cut it short, they would spot the color."

He worked at it till he got it to flow nicely, then braided it into one long braid so as it'd stay nice. I hadn't worn it braided for several years, but out on the trail it made sense and I thanked him.

We rode on in silence for awhile, then I got out to gather fuel. Being in the lead wagon, I found some, but even then it was scattered widely. I wondered at the trains following us. How much were they finding?

A big jackrabbit jumped out from under my feet and bounded ahead of us and Trahern dropped it with a shot from Uncle Dem's pistol. It was a head shot so the meat was undamaged and I tossed it up to him.

That night I helped him dress his wounds again. They were healing swiftly, the two bullet holes causing the most grief, although they were older than the other wounds. It looked like he'd been shot before the Indians got him. I asked him.

"Three men. They robbed me a week earlier, left me for dead."

"You know them?"

"No, but if I ever see them again, I'll recognize ‘em." His voice was deadly quiet, his statement simple fact.

I wouldn't want to be any of those men, for three against one are no odds at all when the one is a skilled hunter.

Next day he brought back an antelope, killed with a single neck shot. We shared it with Axel's family and also with Kate Madison, now heavy with child.

It really made a difference being married. For one, the young men left me strictly alone. No more courting calls or offers of moonlight walks. Marriage, for me, brought freedom.

I took me a lay down every afternoon while we were going to Fort Kearney and soon regained my strength.

We arrived at Fort Kearney, glad to be with other people for awhile. There were several wagons there, folks that had stayed behind from other trains for one reason or another. Some needed to re-equip, some to rest up; some just couldn't get along with the group they were traveling with, so pulled up and waited for another train to come through.