Wagon Trail (9 page)

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Authors: Bonnie Bryant

BOOK: Wagon Trail
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She read over her words and smiled. This journal had been a great idea. She could read these pages when she was eighty and remember what a wonderful time she’d had. She stuffed the little book under her pillow and blew out the lamp, but instead of rolling over to sleep, she folded her arms beneath her head and stared up into the sky. A fragrant breeze was blowing from the southwest, and overhead a billion stars twinkled in the heavens. She sighed and thought of Phil.
Somewhere, perhaps a thousand miles away, he’s probably lying in a sleeping bag near a river, tired from a
day of rafting and fun, just like I’m tired from a day of wagon training and fun. Even when we’re far away from one another, we’re doing exactly the same thing at the same time.
Sighing happily, she started to gaze at one star that had a reddish twinkle and remembered what Carole had said about absence making the heart grow fonder. She pictured Phil’s warm smile; then suddenly Gabriel’s face flashed before her. She frowned. That wasn’t supposed to happen! Suddenly she heard a whisper.

“Stevie? Why are you still awake?”

Stevie turned and looked at Lisa. “I don’t know. I just am.”

“What are you thinking about?”

“Yeah, Stevie,” Carole chimed in. “I could tell you weren’t asleep, too.” She sat up in her sleeping bag.

Stevie raised herself on one elbow. “Actually, I was thinking about Phil. About how neat it is that he and I are probably a thousand miles apart but we’re still doing exactly the same thing. You know, sleeping under the stars and everything.”

“That is neat,” agreed Lisa.

Then Stevie sighed again and idly snapped a button on her sleeping bag. “But I was also thinking about Gabriel.”

“Gabriel?” Lisa asked in disbelief.

Stevie nodded. “You know how annoying he is—how
he puts on that Mr. Superior attitude and struts around here like some movie cowboy.”

“Yes?”

“Well, there’s something else, too. I mean, have you ever noticed how blue his eyes get when he’s being such a jerk? And how when he’s acting his worst he grins the most mischievous grin in the world? And have you seen the way he wears his hat?”

“Stevie!” Lisa cried. “You’ve got a crush on him!”

“Shhh!” Stevie hissed. “Don’t talk so loud! The whole camp’s going to hear you! And besides, I don’t have a crush on him. I just think he’s kind of interesting, in a way. Don’t you think so?”

“Sure,” said Carole. “He’s fascinating if you like an obnoxious jerk who thinks he knows everything and doesn’t mind telling you about it.”

“And if you like someone who assumes you’re the dumbest person in the world before you’ve even said a word,” Lisa added.

“Oh, I don’t think he’s that bad.” Stevie turned and vigorously fluffed her pillow.

Lisa shook her head. “Look. If we’re sitting here in the middle of the night having a conversation about whether or not Gabriel is cute, then we definitely didn’t get enough sleep last night! We’re so tired, we’re probably not thinking straight, and five-thirty in the morning is going to be here in about five minutes.”

“She’s right.” Carole flopped back down in her sleeping bag. “I’m going to sleep. Stevie, you’ll have to figure out Gabriel’s cuteness quotient all by yourself.”

“Okay, okay,” Stevie said as her friends rolled over and went to sleep. She snuggled down in her own sleeping bag and closed her eyes, but her mind spun with thoughts of Phil and Gabriel.
Okay
, she told herself,
so you find that a basically obnoxious boy has some attractive features. So what? It doesn’t mean you have some big-deal crush on him. You just realize that jerks can have nice qualities, too.
She looked over at Carole and Lisa.
You certainly don’t have to make excuses to your friends for that. But
—she frowned as she looked at Carole—
didn’t Carole say that absence would make my heart grow fonder? If my heart’s growing fonder of Phil, then why are my eyes suddenly starting to wander? And what if Phil’s eyes are wandering just like mine? What if a thousand miles away there’s some cute
Ms. Know-It-All on his rafting trip? Or maybe she isn’t Ms. Know-It-All. Maybe she’s Ms. Cuter-and-Smarter-Than-Me. Maybe she’s even a better rider!
Stevie sat up straight in her sleeping bag, her heart thudding.
What if Phil’s a thousand miles away falling in love with someone else?

For a long time she stared at the dim orange glow of the banked campfire, almost wishing she’d canceled this trip and gone rafting with Phil and his family. Then at least if their hearts hadn’t grown fonder, their eyes
could only have wandered toward each other. Now there was probably some other wonderful, fabulous girl Phil had fallen for.
Oh, well.
She sighed as she once again flopped down in her sleeping bag. There was nothing she could do about Phil and his gorgeous new girlfriend that night. That night the only thing she could do was sleep, and that didn’t sound like a half-bad idea.

I
T SEEMED AS IF
Stevie had just closed her eyes when the clang of the triangle jarred her awake. For a moment she lay in her sleeping bag, watching as Lisa and Carole scurried around getting dressed and brushing their teeth in a small wooden bucket of water.

“Come on, Stevie,” Lisa said. “Get up. You’re going to be late for breakfast.”

Stevie rubbed her eyes. “You two go on over to the chuck wagon and save me a place in the chow line.”

“Are you feeling okay?” asked Carole, knowing that Stevie was seldom late for a meal.

Stevie nodded. “I’ll catch up to you in a minute.”

Lisa and Carole walked over to breakfast while
Stevie rose slowly from her sleeping bag. She climbed into the wagon and found her tattered, scratchy dress.
Phil’s new girlfriend probably wears really cool rafting outfits
, she thought glumly, changing from her T-shirt and shorts into the dress.
At least he’s not here to see me in this getup.

After she brushed her hair, she made her way over to the chow line. Lisa and Carole were about to be served. Stevie hurried and slipped in line behind Carole.

“Stevie, why are you such a storm cloud this morning?” Carole asked.

“I didn’t sleep too well last night,” Stevie muttered as she picked up a tin plate and spoon.

“Look what Mr. Assistant Trail Boss is doing this morning,” Lisa whispered with a grin.

Stevie looked up at the steaming iron kettle at the head of the line. Gabriel stood there, helping Shelly spoon cornmeal mush onto everyone’s plate.

Maybe I’ll skip breakfast
, Stevie thought as the line inched forward. Just as she was about to excuse herself, Gabriel saw her and grinned.

“Well, here’s the ghost-story queen of Virginia and all her pals,” he said as he slapped a serving of mush onto Lisa’s plate. “I want to remind you ladies that it’s probably not a good day to do any more wagon racing. We’re going to be crossing the river, and that can be dangerous.”

“No kidding,” Stevie said with a smirk.

Gabriel slapped some mush onto her plate. “So you need to be extra careful and pay attention to what the trail bosses tell you to do.”

Stevie had opened her mouth to reply when Carole grabbed her arm. “Come on, Stevie. Let’s have a nice, peaceful breakfast over there by the tree.”

Lisa and Carole hurried Stevie over to a single small pine tree. “You know,” Carole said as she sat down beneath the scraggly tree, “I think he must be the biggest jerk I’ve ever met.”

Stevie sat down. Amazingly, she suddenly felt wonderful. As she listened to Carole it occurred to her that she couldn’t possibly be interested in someone that painfully obnoxious. She might appreciate some things about him, but like him? Forget it! And that meant that Phil couldn’t possibly be interested in the girl he’d just met. Oh, he might like her eyes and her laugh and her cute outfits, but that didn’t mean he was going to do anything drastic, like fall in love with her!

Stevie started beaming. “You know,” she said to her puzzled friends, “this might turn out to be the best day yet!”

After breakfast Jeremy called a brief camp meeting. “I want to explain a little bit about river crossings,” he said, taking off his hat in the bright sunlight. “This river we’re crossing today can be dangerous, but we’re
going over at its widest, shallowest point. We haven’t had a lot of rain, so the water should be at a manageable level. For those of you riding horses or tending livestock, the best way to cross is to simply ride or lead your horse or cow into the water. Most animals are natural swimmers and won’t have any problem. Don’t try to pull them along or make them go any faster than they want to. And of course, if your animal gets into trouble, let it go and get to shore yourself. Animals know how to take care of themselves.”

Jeremy looked at Stevie. “For you wagoneers, just drive your team into the river. The horses will swim, and your wagon will float. It also may leak a little, so the trick is to get across as fast as you safely can. That way your supplies won’t get too wet. Again, if your wagon should get into trouble, leave it and get to shore yourself.”

Jeremy looked at the suddenly grim faces of the campers and smiled. “Let me assure you that I’ve led wagon trains across this river for fifteen years, and the worst thing I’ve ever lost was someone’s watch.” He brushed his gray hair back and resettled his hat. “Okay, pioneers, let’s get rolling.”

“Are you guys scared?” Carole asked Lisa and Stevie when they were ready to go.

“A little,” admitted Stevie. “Although I sure wasn’t going to let Jeremy know.”

“I just hope Veronica can swim faster than she walks,” said Lisa, looking at the placid cow. “Otherwise, she and I might float on down to the Gulf of Mexico.”

Suddenly Jeremy’s sharp “Wagons ho!” pierced the bright air.

“Good luck, guys,” said Stevie, clucking to the horses. “Here we go.”

The wagons rolled westward. Slowly the flat land they had been traveling over became hillier, and as they neared the river, gnarled trees climbed up its steep banks. A large flock of yellow-headed blackbirds nested in the trees, cawing in alarm as the wagon train grew near. Stevie maneuvered the wagon as close to the river as she could; then The Saddle Club watched as the wagon ahead of them began to make the crossing.

It crossed the blue water quickly. It floated a little off course in the middle of the stream, but nothing fell off, and the horses pulled it well up on the opposite bank.

“Next!” Jeremy called.

“Our turn,” said Stevie. “Why don’t you two go first? That other wagon didn’t have livestock with it. You guys can get Nikkia and Veronica across, then come back and help me with Yankee and Doodle.”

“Good idea,” said Carole. She looked at Lisa. “Do you want to go first or shall I?”

“Better let me start,” said Lisa. “It’ll probably take Veronica three hours to wander across anyway.”

“Good luck,” Stevie and Carole called as Lisa led Veronica down to the river.

“See you in Acapulco,” Lisa laughed.

Lisa stopped on the riverbank. The water, which had looked like a lazy stream from where they had watched the first wagon cross, now seemed more like a rushing torrent. She wondered how deep it was in the middle, then decided it didn’t matter. She was on this trip and she was a pioneer. Somehow she would have to get this cow across this river. “Ready, Veronica?” she asked. Veronica looked at the river and continued chewing her cud.

“Well, I’ll take that as a big yes,” Lisa said. She grasped the lead rope tightly, took a deep breath, and waded into the cold water. She fully expected to feel a tug on the rope, which would mean that Veronica had planted herself firmly on the shore, but to her surprise, Veronica’s head began bobbing along right beside her. “Way to go, Veronica!” Lisa said, stunned at the cow’s strong, even strokes. “You’re a regular mermaid!” Veronica’s determined expression looked so comical that Lisa laughed, stepped in a hole, and wound up gulping a mouthful of river water. Suddenly she realized that Veronica was doing fine and she was the one who’d better
pay more attention. After a few quick swimming strokes of her own, she pulled Veronica triumphantly to the other side of the river, sending Carole and Stevie a thumbs-up sign.

Next it was Carole’s turn. “Come on, Nikkia,” Carole said. “Time to go for a swim.” The big Appaloosa looked at the water dubiously and backed up a step. Carole urged him forward. He took a sideways step toward the river and stopped. “Let’s go, Nikkia,” Carole repeated. The horse snorted and shook his head. “Okay. Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Carole said firmly. She shifted her weight forward in the saddle and gave the horse a loud pop on his rump. Surprised, Nikkia bounded into the river. For a moment Carole thought he might rear, but he found his swimming stride quickly and in a little while they were both shaking water off on the other bank.

“Let’s go back and get Stevie now,” Lisa said, holding Nikkia’s bridle while Carole dismounted from the dripping horse. They tethered Nikkia and Veronica to a nearby tree and then swam back across the river to Stevie.

“Yankee and Doodle seem pretty calm,” said Stevie as Lisa and Carole waded out of the river. “I think they’ve done this before.”

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