The Reluctant Bridegroom (25 page)

Penny smiled sadly. “Son, these women didn’t come all the way across the country to be servants. They want to be wives!”

“I know, Lot, but—”

When Winslow did not continue, Penny said, “Well, I can tell there’s more. Spit it out.”

“It’s Rebekah. She’s got those two children, and not many men would want to raise another man’s kids. So I’ve decided to ask her if she’ll do it. What do you think, Lot?”

“I think she’ll say no.” Penny shook his head. “You’re foolin’ yourself, Sky, and that ain’t like you. Sure, some men will back off from those two children, but there’ll be others who’ll welcome them. Especially when they see how pretty Rebekah is.”

Tired of the conversation, Winslow got to his feet. “Guess I’ve always had the idea that she was pretty well fed up with men. At any rate, I’m going to ask her, Lot.” He walked away from the raft with a purposeful straightness in his back.

“Sure hate to see that boy get hurt—but he’s headed for a bad fall!” Penny said to himself.

****

The crew in the woods worked late that day cutting enough logs for all the rafts; by doubling up on the oxen, they brought the last of the logs into camp by nine o’clock. All of the men were exhausted, but after a late supper everyone sat around the fire and talked about the descent down the river.

“How do we go about it, Sky?” Al Riker asked. “I don’t see how anything can get through those rapids down there.”

“Well, there’s about six miles of white water,” Sky explained. “We’ll float the rafts through and portage around the rapids.”

“What’ll happen to the rafts?” Dave asked.

“Won’t be hard to catch ’em in the calmer current. Then we load the wagons back on and take a thirty-mile drift to the mouth of the Sandy. From there it’ll take two days into Oregon City by land.”

“Don’t sound too bad,” Lake spoke up.

“Won’t be—unless we get a big rain that fills the river up.” Sky glanced upward at the black and ominous sky. “There’s been lots of big thunderheads building up since yesterday.”

“What if that happens?”

“It gets a little tricky. Have to have a boat and a couple of good men ready to catch the rafts.”

Riker shook his head. “Wouldn’t want that job—a small boat in a wild river tryin’ to stop heavy rafts.”

“It can be dangerous,” Sky admitted. He looked up at the sky again, feeling the pressure of the rains building up. “Let’s get some sleep. Maybe we can finish the rafts tomorrow or the next day and beat those thunderheads.”

The men wearily shuffled toward their bedrolls, but Tom Lake went first to stand by Rebekah’s tent. He listened intently for the baby’s coughing but heard nothing, so he went to his blankets. He and Lot Penny had rigged up a snug shelter underneath the wagon Lot drove, lining the ground with canvas and raising a skirt of it to keep the cold air out. Lot
was already down and snoring, so Tom crawled in beside him and went to sleep.

He slept fitfully, half-waking from time to time. Lot was a difficult man to sleep with, for he was either mumbling or snoring most of the night. Tom had just dropped off into a light slumber when he was awakened with a start. Something was scratching at the walls of their makeshift tent. Fishing beside his bedroll for his glasses, Tom reached out with his other hand to grasp the pistol he kept handy in the roll over his head.

“Tom! Tom!”

He sat up and promptly smacked his head on the underside of the wagon. Rubbing the sore spot, he looked over to see that Lot was still sound asleep. Recognizing the voice, he replaced the pistol, pulled his boots on, and moved the draw cover of the shelter aside. Rebekah stood in a drizzling rain holding a lantern, her face blurred in the darkness. “What’s wrong?” he whispered loudly, crawling from under the wagon.

“Mary’s worse.” Rebekah’s voice was tense with panic. “I can’t stop her from coughing.”

“Let me get my bag.” He went around to the back of the wagon and picked up his medical kit, then followed her across the muddy ground to her wagon. He could hear the baby’s racking cough even before he got there; he crawled inside the wagon and Rebekah followed. The baby was lying in a crib made of smooth saplings on top of some boxes. Sitting down on the bed beside the crib, he said to Rebekah, “Hold the lantern closer.”

He examined Mary as carefully as he could by the dim light. Intently he listened to the child’s chest, which heaved with the effort of breathing, hearing a rattle in the lungs he didn’t like.

“Is it bad, Tom?”

“Well, I wish we could help her breathe. Let’s water down some of this cough syrup and see if that will help.”

Working together, they managed to get some of the cough
mixture down the baby’s throat. That accomplished, he said, “I’ll just sit with you for a while.”

It was well he did, for the child’s temperature rose half an hour later, and the two of them worked tirelessly at getting it down by applying cool, damp cloths to the skin.

Tom was well aware that if the baby’s temperature went too high, convulsions would follow—which could be fatal—so time passed unheeded. Finally he leaned back and exhaled a sigh of relief. “I think she’s all right, Rebekah. Why don’t you get Karen or one of the other women to watch her while you get some sleep?”

“I couldn’t sleep, Tom. It must be nearly dawn anyhow.”

“Well, I’ll try to get a few winks. If she gets worse, come and get me.”

“Tom—thank you.” She clasped her hands together and smiled tremulously. Her hair down, she looked not only vulnerable but very beautiful in the pale light of the lantern. “If you hadn’t been here . . . !”

“Get some sleep, Rebekah,” he said quickly, then pulled the flap of the tent aside and stepped down out of the wagon. The ground was soft under his feet, and the cold rain was still falling, but the thin gray light of dawn outlined the forms of the other wagons. Wearily, he turned to go.

“Hold it right there.”

The challenge took Lake off guard, but he peered intently at the man who had stepped out of the gray light. “Oh, Sky—it’s you!” The thrill of fear that had touched him turned to relief. Winslow often kept a close watch during the early hours. “It’s okay, Sky. Just me.”

“So I see. Stay right where you are.”

Lake was bewildered. “What’s wrong, Sky? Some kind of trouble?”

“You’re the trouble.” The hard edge on Sky’s voice shocked Lake, as did the raw anger that flared out of the light blue eyes as he moved closer. “You know the rule about being alone with a woman, Lake.”

For one moment, Tom couldn’t imagine what Sky was talking about, and then the implication hit him. “Oh, I can explain that, Sky. Rebekah came to get me—”

“You’re not going to blame this on her.”

Sky hadn’t lowered his voice, and from the other wagons came the sound of people moving, coming to see what the trouble was. “Sky, don’t make an issue of this. The baby was sick. I went to see how she was.”

“Don’t give me that!” Sky snarled. “You’ve been in that wagon for nearly two hours. It doesn’t take that long to doctor a sick child.”

“What’s up, Sky?” Dave Lloyd was standing beside the two men, his unshaven face rough. Behind him, others formed a circle a short distance away, watching intently.

Winslow said, “I caught Lake with Rebekah.”

The tent flap opened behind Lake and Rebekah came down out of the wagon. “It’s all right, Sky. Mary had a fever and I went to get Tom.”

The set look of anger on Winslow’s face did not change with Rebekah’s explanation. He had risen in the middle of the night, which was not unusual for him, and told Mack Malone, who was on late guard, to go to bed. About an hour later he’d heard the noise as Rebekah and Lake had climbed up into her wagon, but had not been able to see who it was. Because he had no way of knowing what had happened, he thought at first it might simply have been Rebekah getting water for the baby, or some other necessary errand. But his caution prompted him to stay within range of her wagon.

When Lake had stepped down, Winslow was filled with an irrational, blinding rage. He did not stop to consider that as a doctor, Lake might have had a plausible reason for being in Rebekah’s tent, nor would any other excuse have dimmed his fury. For in that moment, the memory of his wife’s last infidelity swept across his mind in living color.

He had taken her and Joe, along with one of his partners, on a trapping venture on the upper Missouri. One night he
had been delayed on one of the lines, and came back long after dark—and caught the man coming out of his wagon. After beating him senseless, Sky made up his mind to take Irene and Joe to Oregon in a futile attempt to change his wife’s adulterous ways.

The memory of that moment had seized his mind so powerfully that he’d almost shot Lake as he climbed out of the wagon. Even now, he was not thinking clearly, and was unconscious of the others who had gathered around. Lake’s excuses seemed weak, and the fact that Rebekah confirmed his story made no difference. In times like this, Winslow was a man of impulse more than conscious thought. That fact had always protected him before, and now it caused him to act immediately.

“Take a horse and what you need, Lake,” he said evenly. “You can make it to Oregon City by yourself.”

Lake stood still, not believing what was happening. “Sky, that’s ridiculous! We’ve told you what happened. The baby had a fever, and we had to get it down.”

Winslow didn’t seem to hear. “Get out of camp, or I’ll shoot you, Lake. That’s what any man deserves that takes advantage of a woman on my train. But I’m giving you a break. Take it—or take a bullet.”

“He means it, Tom!” Edith came to stand beside Lake, her eyes wide. “Take a horse and get out of here.”

An angry mutter rose as the crowd grew larger, but no one had the nerve to stand up to Sky. Lot Penny had arrived at the scene just long enough to hear Sky’s threat. “The lady’s right, Lake. Right or wrong, you got to leave.”

Tom Lake stared incredulously at Sky. The admiration and respect he’d felt for Winslow was dashed, and yet he knew that he had no show against the deadly westerner in any sort of fight. Adjusting his spectacles, he settled back on his heels and said, “If I go, it’d be the same as saying that Rebekah’s a bad woman. She’s not—and I won’t be a party to your crazy jealousy!”

Sky had not moved, and there was something ominous in the stillness of his posture. Every soul on the train knew he was a deadly man with any sort of weapon, and they all were nervously eyeing the gun he had at his side. None of the others were armed, but even if they had been, no man would have had a chance against him.

“All right, Lake,” Sky said through clenched teeth. “I tried to give you a break, but you wouldn’t have it.”

“Just a minute, Sky.” Dave Lloyd moved to stand between the two men. He let his arms hang loosely at his sides with his usual air of lazy ease, but his eyes were bright with barely controlled emotion. “Sky, I guess I got as much respect for you as any man I know,” he said quietly, “but you’re wrong this time. Now let’s just get this train down the river.”

“Get out of the way, Dave.”

Lloyd didn’t budge. The rain had matted his coarse black hair to his skull, and molded his shirt to his huge shoulders and long arms. “Won’t anything make you change your mind, Sky?”

“No. Get out of the way, Dave.”

Lloyd sighed. “I’ll have to take your gun away from you, Sky.”

That cut Winslow like a blow. “You heard me, Dave! Stand aside! No man’s taking my gun—and I’m not warning you again.”

Lloyd said, “I don’t have a gun, Sky, and wrong as you are about this—I don’t reckon you’d shoot one of your friends cold turkey. C’mon—give me the gun.”

He stepped forward and like a flash Winslow drew his gun and fired. The report shattered the morning air, and Lloyd felt the breath of the slug on his cheek, but did not even pause. He ignored the second shot as well, which grazed his shoulder. Quickly he reached out and slapped Sky’s gun from his hand. It landed in the mud, and Sky made no attempt to get it.

“Okay, Sky.” Dave said soothingly, his hands outstretched. “C’mon. Let’s forget this and get to work. You’re the leader
of this train, and it looks like it’s going to rain buckets. None of us can do this without you, so I’m your man all the way.”

Sky still had not moved all this time, but stood there, his face pale. Then a ripple ran through his frame; he stared at Dave in unbelief, and covered his face.

“
Sky?
”

With an anguished moan, Sky turned from the group and stalked from the camp.

Rebekah retreated back into her wagon, sickened by the ugly scene and angry at Winslow’s irrational and violent reaction. She covered her eyes and as she did so, she heard a voice say, “Sister, try not to hate Winslow too much.”

She whirled to find Lot Penny peering inside the wagon flap in front of her. “He’s a real mixed-up man. It was wrong, what he said—but if you knew how badly he’s been hurt, you might see things a little different.”

Rebekah turned away blindly, then whispered, “I’ll be glad when I never have to look at him again!” At a loss for words, Penny silently drew the flap back over the opening and walked away.

Sky returned in an hour. During his absence his anger had subsided and he could think clearly. Why were his actions so volatile and unbending? Was it the pressure of his responsibility? Was it just because the rule had been broken—or because Rebekah was involved? Everything seemed so confusing to him. He resolved to change—but not now.

As he entered the camp, he saw Lake about ready to ride out, with Dave and the others gathered around him. Sky walked over and the rest stepped back. Coming directly to the point, he said, “Lake, Dave, I misjudged you. I want you to stay, Lake.”

Sky Winslow faced the crowd unflinchingly. Only Rebekah had left, and the rest of them waited for his next move. Sky simply announced, “Let’s get the rafts built.”

Winslow turned without a word and walked toward the logs, followed by most of the other men. When he was out
of hearing, Karen came up to Dave and said, “That man! He never does what you’d think, does he, Dave?” She hesitated, noticing his lack of response. “You mustn’t feel bad about what happened this morning, Dave. Tom could have been killed—and you couldn’t have done anything else to stop it. He won’t hold it against you when he’s thinking more clearly.” She touched his cheek and said, “I was very proud of you, Dave!”