Wagon Trail (5 page)

“Gabriel, since you’re a rider and a great student of history, how about we make you assistant trail boss?”

Gabriel’s face lit up with pride. “No problem,” he said confidently. “I can handle that.”

“I bet,” scoffed Stevie. “He probably couldn’t lead
this wagon train across the parking lot.” She folded her arms across her chest. Then Jeremy began to speak again.

“Okay. Now that everyone’s gotten a role, it’s time to visit the clothes locker for your costumes and then start loading up your wagons. We’re going to spend the rest of the day here at the lodge, practicing our roles and becoming accustomed to the lives we’re going to be living. Then, tomorrow, it’s wagons ho!” He grinned. “Good luck. And don’t hesitate to holler if you need help.”

Deborah and the girls rose from the table and decided to go outside and choose their wagon first. “This one looks good,” said Carole, poking her head inside one that was parked under a tree. “At least I don’t see any tears in the canvas where the rain could get in.” She held up a horse collar. “Look, Stevie, here’s the harness for the horses. Why don’t you go find our team and hitch them up while Lisa and I get our costumes? We’ll bring you something neat to wear.”

“Okay,” said Stevie. “Just don’t bring me any goofy-looking old dress. I couldn’t possibly drive this wagon in a skirt.”

While Lisa and Carole went to get the costumes, Jeremy introduced Stevie to their team, two big bay quarter horses named Yankee and Doodle. Both walked
docilely behind her as she led them back to the wagon. She had just begun to hitch them to the traces when she heard a voice behind her.

“Hey, I’ll be happy to help you with that!”

Stevie turned. There, with a smug grin on his face, was Gabriel, Mr. Know-It-All since the fifth grade.

“Well, thanks, but I don’t need any help with this,” Stevie said as she pulled the breast collar over Doodle’s head. She adjusted the collar and had to smile to herself when she saw how closely Gabriel was watching her.

“Looks like you’ve done that before,” he said with some disappointment as Stevie slid the saddle onto Doodle’s back and buckled the crupper under his tail.

“I have,” replied Stevie. “Have you ever been an assistant trail boss before?”

“No.” Gabriel folded his arms across his chest. “But I think I can handle it.”

Stevie raised one eyebrow as she pulled the horse collar onto Yankee. “Well, if you need any help, feel free to call on me and my friends.”

Gabriel gave a snide chuckle. “Thanks, but I don’t think that’s going to happen. Men didn’t rely on the womenfolk to help them guide the wagon train.”

“Yes, but the menfolk relied on women for a lot of other important jobs,” said Stevie. “Like mending clothes and healing sick people and cooking meals.”
She glared at Gabriel. “Maybe if you expect to eat anything on this trip, you ought to keep certain opinions to yourself.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Just my rotten luck,” he muttered. “The first women’s libber is going to Oregon on my wagon train.”

“Maybe it’s your
good
luck,” Stevie whispered, hitching up Yankee and watching as Gabriel hurried over to help a family struggling with their horses’ harness. “Now you can learn firsthand what womenfolk can really do!”

B
Y LATE AFTERNOON
Stevie had shown Deborah how to steer their horses to the right by saying “gee” and to the left by calling “haw.” Much to her disgust, she had also donned a long-sleeved brown dress that scratched every inch of her. Lisa was outfitted in an equally itchy blue dress with a floppy collar, while Carole, because she was a horse rider, sported a blue homespun shirt and jeans with a battered cowboy hat.

“I can’t believe I have to drive this wagon across the country in a dress,” Stevie complained, already scratching behind one shoulder. “Are you sure they didn’t have any extra jeans?”

“I’m sure, Stevie,” Carole explained for the third
time as she tried to relax on her new horse, a gray Appaloosa named Nikkia. “All the trousers were for the people who’d been assigned horses.”

“I’ll tell you something else you’re not going to believe,” called Lisa as she pulled a slow-moving white cow up to their wagon.

“What?” Stevie asked grumpily.

“This cow’s name,” Lisa replied.

“Let me guess,” Carole said as Nikkia slapped his ears back and tossed his head. “Bossy.”

“Better than that.”

“Flossy,” guessed Stevie, still scratching.

“Even better than that,” Lisa said.

“Okay, we give up,” said Carole.

“Veronica!” Lisa answered with a huge grin.

Stevie and Carole howled with laughter. Veronica di Angelo was the snobbiest, most stuck-up girl at Pine Hollow Stables. Somehow it was poetic justice that she should share her glamorous name with a stubborn cow.

“Veronica would just die if she knew someone had named a cow after her,” hooted Stevie, forgetting about her scratchy dress.

“I know,” Lisa laughed. “Isn’t it great?”

A little while later it was time to corral the livestock for the night. Lisa took Veronica back to her pasture, while Carole gratefully pulled off Nikkia’s heavy Western saddle. As Stevie began to unhitch Yankee and
Doodle, she noticed that Gabriel was leaning against a fence watching her work. For once his blue eyes sparkled in honest admiration at the smooth way she handled the horses. She was just about to say something to him when someone called him from the other end of the wagon train. She turned back to her horses, and as she returned them to the corral she realized that every time she’d seen Gabriel that day, he’d been going from wagon to wagon, pitching in wherever he was needed and generally giving people good advice.

“Well, okay, so he knows a lot,” she admitted to Yankee and Doodle as they walked along beside her. “But his attitude toward ‘the womenfolk’ could sure be improved.”

After the girls had taken care of their livestock, they decided to move from their comfortable lodge rooms out to their wagon. “If we’re roughing it,” said Stevie, “we ought to really rough it.” Just as they were spreading their sleeping bags out on the hard wagon floor, the dinner bell rang.

“Howdy, pilgrims!” called a short, dumpy man with a grizzled beard. “My name’s Shelly Bean and I’m the cook of this outfit. All who are eating out here with me need to come and get it now!”

“Let’s go,” said Stevie, scrambling out the back end of the wagon and nearly tripping over the hem of her long dress. “I’m starved!”

Everyone lined up. As they passed the chuck wagon, Shelly Bean grinned and ladled some odd-smelling stew onto their plates. Then they all sat in a big circle around the campfire.

“How do you like your supper?” Jeremy asked after everyone had begun to eat.

“Tastes kind of unusual,” a woman said, coughing slightly.

“It’s Shelly’s special pemmican stew,” Jeremy explained. “Dried meat and berries mixed in with cornmeal. The Cree Indians shared the recipe with the pioneers. It was a popular dish along this trail.”

Everyone ate the stew. Though it was something they probably wouldn’t have liked at home, here, because they were sitting around a fire in the open country and were tired from a hard day’s preparation for their journey, it tasted fine.

“Are we going to be eating this every night?” someone asked Jeremy.

He shook his head. “No. We won’t be lucky enough to have pemmican stew every night. Most of what we eat we’ll be carrying with us, just like the pioneers. We’ll be traveling the same route as them, as much as modern towns and highways permit. That means we won’t have any electricity, running water, or heat. All we’ll have is the outdoors and the challenge of nature.”

Deborah looked guiltily over at the rucksack that
held her laptop computer. “I think I’d better leave that at the lodge,” she whispered to the girls. “It won’t do me any good anyway, without an outlet to recharge the batteries.”

“I feel like I’m saying good-bye to the modern world forever,” Lisa said, taking the last bite of her stew.

Jeremy spoke as if he’d read her mind. “Even though we’re going to live the lives the pioneers lived as much as possible, I will have a cell phone, just in case of emergency. Anybody else here carrying a cell phone?”

Four people raised their hands.

“Good,” said Jeremy. “We’ll be well prepared. On our third night out we’re scheduled to meet with some folks from a nearby dude ranch who are participating in a mock cattle drive. We’ll have fresh food and a hoedown and a real celebration by the fire. It should be a lot of fun.”

“It sounds terrific!” someone called from across the fire.

“I think you’ll find the next six days will be an experience you won’t soon forget,” Jeremy said.

“I won’t soon forget spending six days in this dumb dress,” grumbled Stevie, trying to scratch between her shoulder blades.

After everyone had finished supper, Stevie, Carole, and Lisa helped wash the dishes. Then they sponged
themselves off in the cold, rushing creek and walked slowly toward their wagon.

“I can’t believe how tired I am, and it’s not even sundown!” Carole said.

“I know.” Lisa yawned. “That sleeping bag is going to feel great.”

“I’ve got to write in my journal some before I go to sleep,” Stevie said as the girls climbed into the back of the wagon.

“Are you sure you’ve got the energy for that?” Carole asked.

“Well, I am tired, but I made Phil a promise and I’m going to keep it.”

The girls settled in next to Deborah, who was already in her sleeping bag. Stevie lit a small oil lamp and dug her pen and journal out of her backpack.

“Don’t write too late, Stevie,” said Deborah from under her covers. “Remember, the real journey starts tomorrow at sunup.”

“I won’t,” Stevie whispered. She sat up and balanced the journal on her legs.
Day One
, she wrote at the top of the first page.

Stevie started to write that Gabriel did know all about wagons and harnesses and packing supplies, but she decided Phil probably wouldn’t be interested in that. Instead, she wrote:

“Oh no,” Stevie whispered, feeling a hot blush of embarrassment as she read over her words. “I can’t say that!” Quickly she tore the page out of her journal and started again.

Stevie reread her words and smiled. This was better. This was more like the real Gabriel. She added a few paragraphs about their wagon and the campfire; then she was done for the evening. She stuffed her journal back into her bag, blew out the lamp, and curled into her sleeping bag. In an instant she was asleep.

I
T WAS A
little past midnight when Deborah shook Carole and Lisa awake. “Girls, there’s an emergency phone call for me at the lodge. You sit tight and I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Okay,” Lisa mumbled, rubbing her eyes.

By the time Deborah had climbed over the sleeping bags and out of the wagon, all three girls were wide awake.

“What do you think it could be?” Carole asked as she watched Deborah and Jeremy hurry toward the lodge.

“I hope nothing’s wrong with Maxi,” said Stevie.

“Or Max,” added Lisa.

For what seemed like forever, they huddled in the dark wagon, wondering what could have gone wrong. Finally Deborah reappeared.

“Okay, girls, here’s the deal. My father was in a car accident this evening. He’s in a hospital right now, and though it looks like he’s going to be okay, my mom’s really upset. Since I’m an only child, I have to be there
for both of them. I hope you won’t be too disappointed, but I’m afraid we’ll have to leave right away.”

“Sure, Deborah. We understand. We would want to be there if any of our parents were hurt,” said Carole, trying to hide her disappointment.

“Jeremy’s making our flight arrangements, so I guess the best thing for us to do is to pack our stuff up and go back to the lodge. I’m really sorry this had to happen.”

“Don’t worry about it, Deborah,” said Lisa. “This would have been a great trip, but we can do it some other time.”

“Thanks. I appreciate your understanding.” Deborah gave a tired sigh.

They had just begun to roll up their sleeping bags when Jeremy appeared at the back of the wagon.

“Hey, Deborah, I was thinking. I watched these girls all day today and I think they’re all extremely capable, mature young ladies. It would be a shame to have them come this far and then have to leave. Why don’t you let me take them under my personal wing for the rest of the trip? That is, if it’s okay with you.”