DISCLAIMER: This story and all its characters belong to me. Any similarities to anyone living or dead are purely coincidental. Most of the places in this story actually exist or existed, though.
AUTHOR NOTES: English is not my native language, so please be patient with me.
This story is set on the Oregon Trail in 1851. Although I did a LOT of research and tried to make things as realistic as possible, there might be some mistakes. Please let me know if you spot any.
SUMMARY: “Luke” Hamilton has always been sure that she’d never marry. She accepted that she would spend her life alone when she chose to live her life disguised as a man.
After working in a brothel for three years, Nora Macauley has lost all illusions about love. She no longer hopes for a man who will sweep her off her feet and take her away to begin a new, respectable life.
But now they find themselves married and on the way to Oregon in a covered wagon, with two thousand miles ahead of them.
RATING: NC-17. This story depicts a loving/sexual relationship between two consenting adult women.
THANKS: A very big
thank you goes to my beta reader Pam for her corrections and valuable input. I
couldn't have done this without you!
FEEDBACK: Feedback, comments and
constructive criticism are welcome at jae_s1978@yahoo.de
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
Backwards to Oregon
By Jae
Part 3
From under the brim of her hat, Luke glanced up to the high cliffs that loomed like a bastion above the plains. An hour ago, she had glimpsed a band of Indians watching the wagon train from the pine-covered top of the massive bluff.
This was Sioux territory, so as far as Luke was concerned, they had every right to be there. She kept a watchful eye on them from time to time, but otherwise didn’t pay them too much attention. She didn’t really have the time to, because unlike Chimney and Courthouse Rock, Scotts Bluff was an obstacle for the wagon train.
Ravines and eroded wastelands stretched from the bluffs to the river, making it impossible to continue on their usual trail along the North Platte River. Luke and two other scouts had been sent out to look for a pass through the bluffs.
From the distance, the bluffs seemed to be an impenetrable barrier, but Luke knew from her military expeditions that there was a lower, less rocky area several miles to the south.
Larson and some of the other men grumbled about the detour, but in the end, the Captain had agreed to use Robidoux Pass instead of the shorter, but steeper and more dangerous Mitchell Pass.
Luke wiped the sweat from her brow. After the downpour two days before, the weather had turned oppressively hot. Men and animals suffered alike under the blazing sun and the clouds of mosquitoes. Fortunately, the ascent was a gradual one, until the last half mile before the summit, where they had to double-team the oxen to navigate the hundred-foot rise.
They stopped at the crest of the pass to rest in the shadow provided by nearby cedar trees and to renew their water supplies. Luke gratefully took the ladle of cool, clear water that Nora handed her and took a moment to look around.
In the distance, the faint blue shadow of the Black Hills loomed on the horizon to the west. The snow-capped Laramie’s Peak seemed to reach into the clouds. Luke watched Nora stare west with as much anxiety as awe.
Luke couldn’t blame her. Laramie Peak signalled the beginning of their ascent into the mountains. Ahead of them lay difficult terrain. Firewood, water, and even buffalo chips would become scarce. They would have to leave more of their possessions behind to lighten the load of the weary oxen as they tried to cross the Rocky Mountains.
Luke dipped the ladle into the water barrel again. When she lifted it, she caught a glimpse at half a dozen Sioux that crested the rise.
“Indians!” Bill Larson had seen them, too, and he reached around his faint looking wife for his rifle.
“No!” Luke sprang forward, grabbing the barrel of Larson’s rifle.
Larson refused to let go. A tug-of-war ensued. “Let go, you fool, or we’re all gonna die!” Larson barked, trying to kick Luke from his elevated position on the wagon seat.
Luke used his momentum forward to pull Larson down from the wagon. She never let go of the rifle, because she knew how it would end. The Lakota, as the Sioux called themselves, hadn’t attacked emigrants so far, but they started to eye the streams of white men passing through their land and leaving behind herds of slaughtered buffalo with distrust. They were a powerful and proud tribe, and when pushed by trigger-happy settlers, they would respond with hostility.
“Stop it! Both of you!” Captain McLoughlin stepped between them. “We have to show strength in front of the Indians; fighting among ourselves doesn’t help with that!”
Slowly, Luke let go of Larson’s rifle. The Captain was right. She straightened and watched as the six braves slowly led their horses towards the wagon train.
“Keep on your guard,” Abe McLoughlin said over his shoulder, “but nobody lifts a weapon without me ordering it!” He stepped out of the shadow of Larson’s wagon and greeted the Lakota in their own language. From time to time, he turned back around to translate for the other emigrants.
Luke didn’t really need the translation. In her eight years with the dragoons, she hadn’t made a lot of friends and had kept to herself a lot, particularly after Nate’s death. She had spent a lot of time with the other outsiders of the company, including the native and half-blood scouts. As a result, she understood at least some words of half a dozen native languages. She caught that they wanted to trade before McLoughlin translated it for them.
“They want to trade?!” Bill Larson roared with sarcastic laughter. “I don’t need no stinking Indian blankets! Tell them no!”
“Abe,” Luke said before the Captain could turn back around to translate Larson’s refusal, “if we refuse to trade with them, they’ll follow us for days and try to steal our stock at night. Let’s trade with them; give them some clothes or coffee. That’s all they want.”
The Captain nodded. He turned and asked the barrel-chested leader what they had to offer.
The tall Lakota pointed to the only female in his group, then at Measles.
Luke could only stare for a moment. She wouldn’t trade her horse, and certainly not for an Indian wife.
Bill Larson started to laugh when the Captain translated the offer. “Hamilton can’t handle one wife; what would he want with two?”
Luke ignored him. I’m getting quite good at that. “That’s a very generous offer,” she said slowly, in the Lakota’s language, “but I already have a wife.”
The tall Lakota fixed the gaze of his intense black eyes on Nora, who was inching closer to Luke.
He looked at her for much longer than Luke was comfortable with. She half-turned towards Nora, trying to understand what had captured the Lakota’s attention. Now that she was no longer hiding it, it was quite obvious that Nora was pregnant, but to Luke’s continuing surprise, that was only adding to her beauty. Officers that she had served with had often extolled the glowing beauty of their pregnant wives, but Luke had always taken it for the sentimental talk of love-sick fools. Now she had to reconsider that opinion.
Nora didn’t have the perfect porcelain complexion that she had started out with in Independence any longer, but still she was much more fair-skinned than anyone else on the wagon train. The constant sun had tanned her skin to a creamy, golden complexion. She had taken off her bonnet while they rested in the shadow, and her flaming red hair contrasted nicely with her sea green eyes.
The Lakota agilely slid from his horse and offered Luke the braided leather reins.
“That’s the ugliest pony I’ve ever seen!” Bill Larson began to laugh. “You still want to trade, Hamilton?”
The horses of the native tribes were much smaller than that of the white settlers. Compared to the Captain’s large black stallion the chief’s gray mare looked downright tiny. But Luke knew better than to think the small horse inferior. She let her gaze pass over the mare’s flank, shoulder, legs, and chest. She knew without a doubt that the horse was hardy, fast, a good climber, and able to live on vegetation that wouldn’t sustain McLoughlin’s pampered stallion. “What do you want for the mare?”
The Lakota didn’t hesitate. He pointed at Nora.
A wave of possessiveness swept over Luke, making her ears burn. She felt Nora press against her back. Trembling fingers closed around her own, and she gave them a reassuring squeeze. She had to unclench her jaw before she could speak. “No.” She looked the chief right in the eye, leaving no doubt about the finality of her decision.
But the Lakota didn’t give up. He now offered three horses for “Red Hair”.
Luke understood: The Lakota were fascinated with Nora’s flaming red hair. She shook her head again. “She is my wife. I won’t trade her.”
The Lakota chief shoved the young Indian girl in her direction. “Three of my best horses and her. You’ll still have a wife to care for you,” he said in his language.
“No. I already have the wife I want. I won’t trade her for anything you offer,” Luke said firmly.
The Lakota frowned and turned to his braves. One of them nestled with his bow, and Luke saw one brown hand resting on the butt of an old smoothbore musket.
The emigrants began to reach for their weapons, too.
“Maybe we should just turn her over,” Bill Larson mumbled.
Before Luke could turn towards him, the Lakota chief stepped forward. “If you don’t want to give away the red-haired woman, give us the child.”
Luke turned in the direction he pointed in. Amy’s flaming red curls peeked out from under the wagon cover’s flap. Cursing under her breath, she faced the Lakota. She knew that she had to do something before the situation would escalate. Briefly, she thought about offering Measles, but then she had another idea. “The woman is not a good worker.” She squeezed Nora’s hand in silent apology. “And the child is weak and sickly. I have something better that I can offer you.”
The Lakota stood waiting, his face expressionless.
With slow movements, careful to keep her hands half-raised so that no one could misinterpret it as an attack, Luke turned towards the wagon and opened one of the trunks. She unfolded her navy-blue uniform coat. Suppressing a sigh, she turned back around and presented the jacket to the braves. She pointed out the row of the carefully polished brass buttons and the shoulder board with an embroidered gold bar.
The Lakota chief stepped closer and extended a hand to finger a gleaming button with almost childlike curiosity. He seemed interested, but then he lifted his head to look at Nora.
Before he could decide that the red-haired woman would be a better deal than an old military jacket, Luke reached into the trunk again and pulled out her saber. She showed him how to unsheathe it, then handed the weapon over to the chief.
The chief carefully tested the blade’s sharpness and nodded with grim satisfaction as he lifted a bloody thumb in the air.
“Luke…,” Nora whispered, gripping the back of her shirt. She seemed to know what the saber and the uniform meant to Luke.
“It’s all right,” Luke answered so lowly that only Nora could hear her. “I promised to take care of you and Amy until you find another husband. You don’t want to marry him, do you?” She nodded at the chief.
The grip on Luke’s shirt tightened. “No.”
“You’re supplying the Indians with weapons?!” Bill Larson grumbled. “Do you want to encourage them to slaughter us all?”
Luke didn’t even turn towards him; she kept her eyes on the chief who was still weighting the saber in his hand. “A saber is a dangerous weapon in the hands of a trained dragoon officer, but it won’t do much harm in the hands of a Lakota brave fighting against white men armed with revolvers and rifles.” It was the truth. She had seen how much trouble the volunteers in the Mexican War had had learning how to handle a saber. In the early months of the war, there had been a lot of lop-eared horses in their remuda.
She took a step forward, extending the saber’s sheath in the chief’s direction. “Do you want to trade for it?”
The Lakota took one final glance at Nora, then nodded and handed Luke the reins of his mare. Without another word, he took the saber and the uniform jacket and mounted one of the other horses he had initially offered Luke.
Within a minute, the emigrants were alone on the crest.
* * *
Luke could hear the collective sighs of relief when the fifteen-foot adobe walls of Fort Laramie, topped with a wooden palisade, came into view. Someone had said that the fort represented the halfway mark on the way to Oregon, but Luke knew that it was closer to the one-third mark.
After crossing the deep Laramie River, the Captain had decided to set up camp two miles from the fort. They would remain there for a couple of days, because their mules and oxen needed to regain their strength before continuing their way to the Rockies.
After taking care of the animals, most emigrants had decided to visit the fort.
Situated in the foothills of the Rockies, near the conjunction of the Laramie and North Platte Rivers, Fort Laramie was a much more impressive sight than Fort Kearny. Towerlike bastions in the form of blockhouses had been erected at two of the corners and over the main gate.
As they neared the main entrance, Luke could see a group of Lakota selling beaded moccasins and leather leggings outside the fort. Some where reclining on the low roofs of the buildings, looking down at them.
Luke could feel Nora tense next to her. After passing through the Robidoux Pass, they had sometimes caught glimpses at a band of Lakota braves that had followed them for two days, hoping that Luke would reconsider and offer them the scarlet-haired woman or the child. Nora had stayed in the wagon, suffering the constant jolting and jostling in silence. “Don’t worry,” she said, gently pulling Nora a little closer. “This is not the same group, and your hair is barely visible beneath your sunbonnet. You’ll be fine.”
Nora settled her hand into the crook of Luke’s elbow, but didn’t answer.
Then they passed through the gate, and Nora was instantly distracted. Luke smiled as she watched her take in the two-story frame-houses with white porches, the blacksmith building, the wagon-maker’s shop, the sutler’s store, three bakeries, and the garden that belonged to the fort.
“It’s like a town!” Nora said in delight.
“Do they have candy?” Amy piped up from her perch on Nora’s hip.
Luke laughed. “Come on, we’ll go look for some peppermint candy sticks while your mother sends off her letters.”
Without hesitation, the girl grabbed two of her fingers and swung their joined hands back and forth as she dragged Luke across the parade ground.
Like every other item in the store, the price for candy was outrageously high. Luke gritted her teeth, but handed over the coin. On the trail, Amy had to do without any of the luxuries that the children in towns back east enjoyed. She didn’t have much entertainment, and neither Nora nor Luke had much time for her while the wagons were rolling. They hadn’t had the opportunity or the money to replace Amy’s doll yet. Now she wanted the girl to have something extra.
After a moment of hesitation, she counted out another dollar for a pound of tea that she knew Nora liked. When they left the store, Luke’s gaze fell on the wooden sign posted outside of a small building. She couldn’t decipher much more than that whatever was offered in the building cost a dollar.
One of the two doors opened, and a man emerged.
Amy took a nervous step back, hiding behind Luke’s leg.
The stranger stopped and looked down at her with a smile. “Don’t be afraid, li’l one. I’m not a monster, just an old man. I even took a bath.”
Luke rested a protective hand on Amy’s shoulder. She studied the stranger, but could not detect anything threatening about him. He was tall and slender, his black hair neatly cut and damp from a recent bath. He looked down at the girl with twinkling gray eyes. “A bath?” Luke repeated, looking at the wooden sign that she couldn’t read. “Is that what they offer in there?”
“Yeah.” The stranger rubbed a clean-shaven chin that was noticeably paler than the upper half of his face. “The only bathhouse within a few hundred miles.”
A bathhouse. Privacy. Not having to hurry for fear of someone seeing me. It sounded like heaven to Luke. Her gaze wandered down to Amy, who was still holding on to Luke’s leg with one hand while she nibbled on her candy. Damn. That bath is gonna have to wait. She had assumed responsibility for the girl, so she couldn’t just sent her off in search of her mother. As they walked towards the post office, she looked back over her shoulder. Later, she promised herself.
* * *
Fiddling with the letter in her hand, Nora waited for her turn to step up to the counter in the post office. It had taken hours for her to decide what she should write last night. Tess had been much more than her employer, the Madam of the brothel she worked in – she had been the only true friend that Nora had ever had, and there had never been many secrets between them. Nora had even told her the story of how she came to work in a brothel.
But now… Nora had delayed writing about the most important topic. She had started out the letter with some descriptions of the ever changing country they had traveled through, and she had written about the Lakota’s attempt to trade her for three horses, laughing it off for Tess’ sake. Then she had paused with her ink pen over the paper, hesitating for a long time. In the end, she had carefully penned the words. I’m with child again.
What she hadn’t added was the fact that it was not her husband’s. It was a fact that she would rather forget about herself. It was not that she was ashamed of it – she wasn’t proud of it either, she just tried not to lose any sleep about the things she had done to survive. But Luke was a friend of Tess’, and somehow being pregnant with another man’s child while she was married to Luke felt like a betrayal. So, worrying that Tess would also think that, she had only written two sentences about being pregnant before quickly folding up the letter.
Still occupied with the content of the letter she had just mailed east, Nora stepped back outside. She wandered aimlessly over the parade ground, looking for Luke and Amy.
Instead, another voice stopped her. “Hello.”
She was long since used to that suggestive tone of voice. Nora forced a smile onto her face. Then she remembered: She was no longer a lady of the evening. She didn’t have to grin and bear it any longer. Straightening her shoulders, she slowly turned around.
A tall, clean-shaven man leered down at her. “Don’t I know you from some place?”
“I’m sure you confuse me with somebody,” Nora said with as much dignity as she could muster.
The gaze of the gray eyes seemed to drill into her. “I don’t know… You sure look-”
“No,” Nora said firmly. “You don’t know me. I don’t think we’ve met.” She eyed the stranger, trying to remember if they had met before. Usually, if someone approached her like this, he’d been a customer or at least someone who had seen her in the brothel, but she wasn’t sure. In the course of more than two years, there had simply been too many customers, and she had tried to forget these encounters as fast as possible.
She breathed a sigh of relief when Amy came running to proudly show her her candy stick. Feeling Luke’s comforting presence at her side, she relaxed further. “This is Lucas Hamilton – my husband,” she emphasized. This was one of the reasons why she had agreed to marry Luke. Surely the stranger wouldn’t dare to bother her anymore. Maybe he would even think he really had her confused with some prostitute back east, now that he knew she was a married, respectable woman.
“We already met,” Luke said, readily offering his hand to the other man.
Nora frowned as she watched them converse. Was it just her imagination or was Luke much more friendly towards the stranger than usual? Under normal circumstances, Luke was not exactly a social person. While the other emigrants sat together every evening, playing cards, dancing or telling stories, he mainly watched the others from afar. Now he was having a lively conversation about their journey and what lay ahead – with a former customer of all people!
“You should talk to our Captain, Abe McLoughlin,” Luke said.
Nora stared at him in alarm. She hadn’t really listened to their conversation, but now she feared the worst. What business would the stranger have with the Captain if he didn’t want to join their wagon train? God, no! Not that, please. Not now, when I have just built a new life. If he remembers where he knows me from, he’ll destroy everything! Is this never gonna end?
“I certainly will.” The stranger tipped his hat and walked away.
* * *
With a wry grin, Luke stepped through the door that was marked “men”. The cabin that housed the bathhouse was partitioned into two sections, strictly separating the men from the women.
She locked the door and tested it, making sure that no one could walk in on her. Only then did she take the time to look around. The small room was pleasantly warm and smelled of soap and smoke. Stacks of towels and jars of bath salts lined the shelf against one wall. Steam rose from the tin tub in the middle of the room. She noted with satisfaction that the room had no windows.
Intent on enjoying every single minute that she had paid for, she tested the door once more and then stepped towards the tub. She dipped a finger into the water and found it just the right temperature.
Quickly, she pulled off her boots and socks. Her hat and her bandanna were placed on top of a small stool, then she slipped the suspenders from her shoulders and shucked her pants. Standing in the middle of the room, she paused and glanced down at herself. The shirttails hung down her thighs, covering them, so all she could see were her lower legs. They were muscular and covered with fine, dark hairs. Not much different from a man’s, she thought while she lifted her hands to her shirt and began to release the buttons one by one.
Finally, she parted the cotton and slid it down her arms. With movements that were practiced a thousand times, she unwrapped the bindings around her chest and let them fall to the ground. Her gaze followed the path of the fabric downwards. Now that is very different.
The tight bindings had left a criss-cross pattern of red weals across her skin, and Luke smoothed her hands over them. The touch of her callused palms on her breasts brought the image of a lover, a woman, touching her there. She had dreamed of such touches frequently in the last few weeks, but in reality, she had never allowed anyone to touch her without restraint, not even Tess.
She shook her head, trying to shake off the fantasies. Stop daydreaming and get into the tub – the clock is tickin’.
Carefully, she stepped into the tub and slid down until the water covered her shoulders. She leaned back and shivered pleasantly as the hot water engulfed her. The water got into her ears, muffling every sound as if it came from very far away. Luke closed her eyes and allowed herself to relax for the first time in weeks or even months. The world, her complicated life, seemed far away for the moment.
Minutes later, she jerked awake, sputtering and spitting out water. Her neck hurt from resting on the rim of the tin tub, but the rest of her body felt limp and relaxed. Noticing that the water had begun to cool, she reluctantly sat up and fished for the small bar of lavender soap next to the tub.
She scrubbed her hair and behind her ears, then smoothed the soap bar over her arms, enjoying the creamy bubbles on her skin. She rubbed her hands together and slid soapy palms over her breasts, then down her stomach and to the curls between her legs.
The sensations made her whole body tingle, and still, it sometimes felt as if what she was touching wasn’t really her body, but that of a stranger. It was not that she hated her body, she’d just never had the opportunity to get to know and like it.
And this is not the place or time to make up for it, she reminded herself. Her time was almost up and a lot of work was waiting back in camp. Reluctantly, she stepped out of the tub and thoroughly dried herself off. One last stroke with the towel over the fair skin of her chest, then the wrappings covered it again.
Lucas Hamilton was back.
* * *
Nora swallowed the last mouthful of the cold meal of beans and buffalo meat that she had prepared that morning. The ever-present dust made her feel like swallowing wood shavings.
Since leaving Fort Laramie, they had traveled uphill over sandy, rough roads. They were still following their constant companion, the North Platte River, but it was wider and clearer now and flowed much faster, slowly assuming the character of a mountain stream. At the same time, the landscape was becoming more barren. The wagons bumped over rocks and stones, jostling up and down steep ravines. No longer could they spread out to avoid choking on the dust generated by the wagons in front of them.
Nora’s lips were cracking, her skin itched, and her eyes were stinging. With a groan, she got to her swollen feet. The morning sickness had all but disappeared in the last few weeks and she finally felt better, but her growing stomach didn’t let her forget about her “delicate condition”. Your stomach’s not all that’s getting bigger. She looked down at her bosom with a half-grin. Not that Luke would ever notice or even appreciate it…
“You all right?” Luke asked while he put away the last of the washed dishes and readied the wagon.
“Uh, yeah, of course.” Nora quickly straightened, a bit embarrassed to have been caught ogling herself. “My eyes are bothering me, that’s all.”
Luke took something from the back of the wagon. After a second’s hesitation, he stepped close to Nora. “Hold still,” he ordered.
Nora did. She automatically held her breath as his fingertips gently touched her face. It took a second for her to understand that he was spreading zinc sulfate ointment over the irritated skin around her eyes.
“Better?” The gentleness in his gray eyes belied the matter-of-fact tone of his voice.
Nora had to swallow. It was just because of the dust, she told herself. “Yes, thank you.”
“Me, too! Me, too!” Amy hopped up and down next to the wagon, eager to receive the special treatment from her stepfather, too.
Nora watched him bend down. A smile played about his lips as he applied the ointment to Amy’s eyes. “There you go.” He tried to straighten, but Amy had grabbed an edge of his shirt and held fast.
“Papa need, too!”
Nora noticed with a smile that the new title still made him blush. She watched as he held still while Amy’s clumsy hands spread ointment over the majority of his face.
“Uh, thank you.” He waited until Amy ran off to search for her friends, then hastily wiped at his face, trying to get the excess of ointment off.
“Here, let me help.” Nora lifted her hand to his face.
Luke shook his head, trying to move away from her. “No, it’s all right, I have it.”
Of course he hadn’t. Streaks of white still remained across his forehead and his left cheekbone. Nora smiled up at him. “You’re gonna scare the oxen,” she warned and again lifted her hand. She touched the skin of his face, wiping away the ointment with her thumbs. For a second, she admired the smoothness of his skin, but then Jacob Garfield’s yell broke the silence and the wagon in front of theirs started to roll again.
Luke quickly turned away from her. His whip cracked through the air with more vigor than necessary.
With a sigh, Nora fell into step next to him.
Just a few minutes later, Bernice Garfield hurried over from her wagon. She nodded at a point to the right of the road and grinned at Nora. “Do you feel like a hot bath?”
“Lord, yes.” Nora longed to get the sweat and dust from her skin. “But I don’t think that’s gonna happen for some time – or do you have a tub full of hot water in the back of your wagon?” She flashed a regretful smile at Bernice.
“You won’t need one. Jacob says there’s a hot spring ahead, and we’re gonna camp there for the night.”
Nora’s eyes closed as she imagined sinking into clean, pleasantly warm water. “Mmmhm. That’s my kind of campsite.” She did her chores in camp with growing impatience while she waited for her turn to use the natural tub.
Finally, her half-hour to use the thermal springs had arrived. Quickly, she grabbed her precious bar of soap and reached for Amy’s hand. Then she stopped in mid-step and looked back over her shoulder at Luke. “Do you want to go first?”
“No, no, you go ahead.” He waved her away.
“You could... come with us?”
Again, Luke shook his head. “I already had a bath in Fort Laramie. Go on, don’t waste your time; the Larsons are already waiting for their turn.”
For a man who always smells good, he sure is shying away from every opportunity to bathe. With one last glance at Luke, Nora led her daughter towards the hot spring.
Amy began to squeal as she saw the steam rising up from the rocky tub.
As the wagon train approached the Rockies, the air grew colder in the evenings, and the bubbling hot water filled the air with steam.
Nora helped Amy, who was vibrating with impatience, with her clothes and held her hand while she carefully tiptoed over the rocks. When Amy was safely settled in the tub, she stripped off her own clothes and slipped into the water. “Oh, this is nice!”
Amy splashed water at her.
Taken by surprise, she swallowed some of the water and quickly spat it back out. Ugh. The spring’s water was unpalatable. Sitting in it is much nicer than drinking it.
Amy giggled as she made a face.
“Oh, you want to start a water fight, little lady? You can have that!” She shoved a wave of water at her squealing daughter, who began to splash with her hands and feet, drenching Nora to the very last hair on her head.
“My, my, look at that! The whore and her daughter, the picture of domesticity!”
Nora almost slipped on the slippery rocks as her head jerked around. There, right in front of her, stood Broderick Cowen, the man who had probably once been one of her customers. She hadn’t objected when the Captain had asked the assembled members of the wagon train if Cowen could join them. She simply hadn’t known what reason to give for her objection, short of telling them about her former occupation.
He leered at her, letting his gaze wander over her naked body with a grin.
She crossed her arms in front of her chest and tried not to let him see how scared she was. She knew that it would only encourage a man like him. “Leave us alone. You shouldn’t be here,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady.
“I shouldn’t, huh? Who’s gonna stop me?” Cowen took a step closer.
Nora moved her own body in front of Amy’s. She didn’t want her to have anything to do with Cowen or any of her other former customers. “My husband-”
“Oh, yes, I almost forgot!” Cowen laughed. “You got yourself a gullible little husband, huh? Does he know that you would open your legs for any man who had a piece of silver in his hand?”
Nora’s teeth grinded against each other. His dig at Luke made her cheeks burn, but this was not the time or place for pride. In the last two years, she had trained herself never to show any of the pain or humiliation she might be feeling.
Cowen took another step forward. He was right at the edge of the rocky pool now, and Nora scrambled back as far as she could, wrapping a protective arm around her trembling daughter. She nervously eyed her surroundings, but there was no help, no chance to hide or flee. “Please…”
“Does he know that the bum you’ve got warming in the oven is not his?” Cowen continued to taunt. “Hell, for all I know, it might be mine!”
Nora felt her eyes widen. Every muscle in her body stiffened. The metallic taste of fear coated her tongue, and for a moment, even breathing was difficult. The hand that wasn’t wrapped around Amy came to rest protectively on her belly. God, don’t let him spread that around! The worst thing was that she couldn’t even rule out the possibility that he had fathered her baby. She hadn’t kept book on her customers, had always tried to forget about them as soon as possible, so there was no way for her to know if and when he had shared her bed. “It… it isn’t. This baby is my husband’s,” she said with as much determination as she could muster.
“Mrs. Hamilton?” Bill Larson shouted from some distance away. “You’re time’s up!”
Nora had never thought that she would be glad about Larson’s presence in the train.
With one last smirk, Broderick Cowen turned around and was gone.
Her knees shaking, Nora stood and lifted an equally trembling Amy from the rocky tub. She tried them off and dressed quickly. Afraid to be caught alone by Cowen again, she headed straight for the wagon and Luke.
“That was quick,” Luke commented from his place by the fire. He didn’t look up from the frying pan that he was watching over.
“There was a bad man!” Amy blurted out.
Amy, no! Nora wanted to shout, but it was already too late.
Luke was already taking the frying pan from the fire and turning around. He kneeled down to be at eye level with Amy. “A bad man?”
Amy’s head bobbed up and down as she nodded. “Vewwy bad! He scared Mama and me!”
Still kneeling, Luke fixed his gaze on Nora. “What happened? Who frightened you?”
“Nobody,” Nora said quickly. She didn’t want Luke to know what had happened, because it would give him one more reason to send her away. She could tell that one of the reasons why he had married her had been to fit in with the other emigrants of the wagon train. Every other settler was taking his family with him, had someone to care for him. Even with a wife and a child, Luke was already the outsider of the wagon train, and Nora felt that she was somehow a link to the others for Luke. To be able to do that, she had to keep up appearances.
“Nobody?” Luke raised both brows, clearly not believing her.
“It’s just… Mr. Cowen just scared her a bit,” Nora downplayed what had happened. “He came upon us bathing. It took us by surprise, that’s all.”
“Hm.” With a nod, Luke returned to his frying pan.
Nora breathed a sigh of relief. For once, Luke’s blind spot where Broderick Cowen was concerned came in handy. For some reason, Luke seemed impressed with Cowen and would never think him capable of tormenting a woman and her child. Luckily, Amy was quiet now, and Nora prayed that she would forget the incident soon. And that it’s gonna stop with this one incident.
* * *
“Not much further now,” Luke said back over her shoulder. Her rifle watchfully settled in the crook of her elbow, she led the way. She and Brody Cowen had been sent out to hunt. They had sighted a herd of antelopes, but the animals seemed to have spotted the riders and stayed just outside of gun-range. Their hunt had taken them down to Bridge Creek, and they had decided to leave the horses behind and try their luck down at the creek where the animals came to quench their thirst.
Luke had explored the area around Bridge Creek before, and she knew of the special place not far from the watering hole. Her spontaneous decision to take Brody there had surprised even Luke herself.
She wasn’t sure why she had taken an instant liking to the older man. Maybe it was because Brody had fought in the Mexican War, too, and was as reluctant as Luke to speak about his experiences in the war. Many of the emigrants that Luke had met along the way were telling stories around the campfire about how they had single-handedly won the war, but Luke was sure that most of them had never even been in Mexico. Only people who had never experienced war seemed to think it an heroic adventure.
Brady didn’t brag about his wartime experiences. Maybe that was why Luke had taken a liking to him.
Oh, come on, Hamilton! Have you gotten so used to lying to the world that you’re starting to lie to yourself? You know exactly where that sympathy is coming from!
Growing up, she had often asked herself – and her mother – who her father might be. Was he a good man, was he tall, were his eyes gray like her own, did he like horses? Her mother had soon grown tired of the questions and had forbidden her from ever asking about her father again. But the questions in her mind had never stopped. During her years as a cowhand, then as she worked herself up through the ranks of the Dragoons and fought in Mexico, whenever she had met an older man that resembled herself, she had thought: Could this be my father?
Brody’s black hair and gray eyes had started these questions again. As a child, she had often dreamed that her father would come and take her with him, until she had realized that, even if he ever learned of her existence, he probably wouldn’t care. Still, those old daydreams were hard to extinguish.
“So, where is that wonder of yours?” Brody asked from behind her.
“There.” Luke stopped and pointed.
Ahead of them, in a hidden red canyon, a natural bridge of solid rock arched across the little stream.
“Wow!” Brody gave a surprised whistle.
They slowly walked closer, fighting through thickets and undergrowth, balancing from rock to rock and over the pebbles in the low-level creek. Wading into ankle-deep water, they stood right under the stone arch that spanned 30 feet high over the water. The singing of the birds that were swooping into their nests echoed around them.
“Idyllic, huh?” Luke automatically lowered her voice not to disturb the peaceful atmosphere in the little canyon.
“Not bad, yeah, but I think we better hunt down our dinner and rejoin the others before they’re too far ahead.”
He’s not one to stop and smell the flowers, huh? With a suppressed sigh, Luke started up the bank and through the thicket.
They circled back around until they had reached the waterhole again.
“Look at that!” Brody pointed with the barrel of his rifle. He flashed a grin. “I think your little wife is gonna make some buffalo stew tonight!”
Little wife? Luke’s hackles rose, but she said nothing. She didn’t want to start a fight with the older man. Instead, she looked in the direction he indicated.
A lone buffalo stood at the edge of the creek, his muzzle in the water, drinking heavily.
A few years ago, when Luke had first started riding expeditions along the Platte River, big herds of the shaggy beasts had roamed the prairie. Sometimes, the soldiers had to stop and wait for hours until the herd had passed.
On this trip, there hadn’t been moving masses as far as the eye could see. Instead, the valley of the Platte had been dotted with buffalo skulls. Whenever they had encountered a small group of buffalos, most of the men had abandoned the wagons and rushed off to shoot a buffalo, not for food, but for sport.
Luke laid a hand along the raised barrel of Brody’s rifle. “It’s an old bull – very tough meat. We should wait for an antelope.”
Brody shook his head. “That could be a very long wait. I say we size the moment. I don’t want to return with empty hands.” He looked pointedly at her hand that still rested on his rifle.
Reluctantly, Luke lifted her hand.
Careful to stay downwind of his prey, Brody slowly swung up the barrel and took aim. He didn’t aim at the head – the skull was to hard to penetrate, but set his sights on the spot right behind the shoulder. Brody exhaled, then pulled the trigger.
The shot echoed through the canyon.
The bull threw up his head and started to run. After the second step, his legs collapsed and he went down. Sand and pebbles scattered in all directions as his massive weight came crashing down.
Finally, the bull lay still.
* * *
“I could do this for you, you know?” Nora offered again. She watched as Luke skillfully mended his torn pant leg. This was something that she could do for him, offer him in return for his name and his protection.
He didn’t look up from his task. “No, thank you. I’ve done this for years. No need to change the procedure now.”
The grass along the trail had given way to sage and thorny greasewood, and Nora knew that the roads would only get worse, so there was still hope that she would get an opportunity to mend his torn pants another time.
Today, they had encountered a bend in the North Platte. The river swung sharply away to the south, blocking their way, so they’d had to cross it. The North Platte with its swift current and deep waters was notorious, leaving them no choice but to pay the overpriced toll of the ferry that the Mormons had established.
The Captain had warned them that the next fresh water was twenty miles away, so they had decided to start out for Willow Spring before dawn the next day and encamp here for the rest of the day.
While Amy spent the afternoon under the watchful eye of the older Garfield children, Nora was determined not to stray away from Luke even for a second. She had learned that Broderick Cowen would pester her the moment Luke’s back was turned, but he was never anything but polite when Luke was around. That made sure that Luke’s odd hero worship for the man wouldn’t stop anytime soon, but at least Nora had some moments of peace while she stayed close to her husband.
So Nora sat back and busied herself with sewing baby clothes, while she watched him ladle some hot water from the kettle over the fire into a wash-basin. What’s this? Nora wondered. Is he going to wash up right in front of me? Now, that would be something new! She continued to watch from under half-lowered lids.
He set the wash-basin down on the wagon tongue, but instead of unbuttoning his shirt he took his razor blade and ran it over a broad strap of leather. With nimble fingers, he lathered his brush with shaving soap and spread the thick foam over his cheeks and chin.
“Why do you shave every day?” Nora suddenly found herself asking. “Why not just grow a beard like every other man on the trail?” Not that I’m complaining, mind you! She didn’t care for the straggled hair and matted beards of many other men.
Luke paused with the razor blade raised halfway to his cheek. “I don’t like feeling like an unkempt drunkard, that’s all.”
“You wouldn’t look unkempt even if you didn’t shave every day. For a man with black hair, your beard is very light.” When she’d first met him, the soft downy hairs on Luke’s cheeks had made her think he was young and inexperienced.
Luke’s expression darkened. Obviously, his boyish looks wasn’t something he liked to be reminded of. “Every man in my family had light facial hair. It’s nothing unusual.”
“Of course not,” Nora quickly agreed. Ouch! I think I’ve hit a tender spot. She watched in silence as he moved the razor blade over his face, carefully removing the lather and whatever facial hair there might be.
When he wiped away the rest of the shaving soap, Nora let her gaze wander over his face. “You could use a haircut.”
Luke lifted a hand and self-consciously touched the hair in the back of his neck.
“Why don’t I cut it for you?” Yes! Nora triumphed. Finally she had found something that she could do for him. He certainly can’t cut his own hair without risking to lose an ear or looking like a herd of buffalo munched on his head.
“All right.”
His answer came with hesitance, so Nora knew that she had to move quickly or he would change his mind. She gently pressed him down to sit on the trunk that held their cooking utensils and grabbed the scissors she had used for her mending and sewing. She stepped closer, until she could rest one hand on his shoulder for balance. Experimentally, she let her fingers glide through his hair, surprised by the silkiness of it. “How do you want it?”
“W-what?”
Nora rolled her eyes and hid a grin. She had often asked that question in a very different context, and Luke seemed to be well aware of that. “Your hair. How do you want it cut?”
“Short.”
Stepping even closer, Nora lowered the scissors to his neck. “Relax,” she said right into his ear. She wanted to run her hands soothingly over stiff shoulders and down rigid back muscles, but she knew that it would only chase him away so she concentrated on her task instead. She fingered a strand of hair, enjoying the way the sunlight danced over it, making it shine like the fur of the panther whose picture she had once seen in a book.
Luke turned his head to see what she was doing. “Are you gonna use those scissors or not?”
Nora gently turned his head back around. “Hold still.” She started with the dark waves that fell onto the collar of his shirt. When she had it all at the same length, she leaned forward to work on the hair around his ears. Her rounded belly pressed against his shoulder, and both of them froze for a second.
“Is that…?” Luke turned and stared up at her with wide eyes.
The childlike awe on the usually stoic face robbed Nora of speech for a moment. “Yeah. He’s really active today, moving around a lot.”
“He?” Luke echoed. “You know that it’s gonna be a boy?”
Nora laughed. For a mature man, he was surprisingly naïve about some things, and to her surprise, she found it endearing. “There’s no way to be sure. I can’t look inside, you know?” She grinned at his embarrassed expression. “But I figure it’s a 50/50 chance, and I know most men wish for a boy. A son.” She spoke the last words cautiously, watching his reaction. Would he really accept the baby as his own, now that its existence was no longer just an abstract concept but became more real each day?
“Not me,” Luke said after long seconds of silence.
Swallowing heavily, Nora blinked to fight down threatening tears. She started to turn away, but Luke’s next words stopped her.
“I like girls, you know?” He winked at her.
The wave of relief swept away the last remains of her composure. She swung around and hit him in the shoulder, laughing while she felt hot tears run down her face.
“Hey, hey.” He caught her as she threatened to fall.
Nora burrowed her face against his neck, deeply breathing in the scent of him and his shaving soap.
“What is it?” he asked in alarm. “I was only joking. I would care for a boy as much as I would a girl. It doesn’t matter to me, I’ll take care of you all until you’ve remarried.”
Nora drew back and sniffled. She didn’t know what to say, embarrassed about her blatant display of emotions.
“Do you think you can finish that haircut now?” He fingered the hairs above his right ear. “It’s gonna look a little uneven like this.”
With a smile, Nora went back to work.
* * *
“Eek! Papa, that smells bad!” Amy wrinkled her nose.
Luke smiled down at the child that sat in the saddle in front of her. Lord, I never thought I would grow used to having someone call me “Papa”! “Yes, Amy, it smells very bad, and it tastes even worse. It’s very important that you never drink that water.”
Since leaving behind the Platte River, they had encountered the worst section of the trail so far. They had to struggle up steep hills, through barren land with almost no grass for their animals. All around them clouds of mosquitoes swarmed that were so big that Jacob Garfield jokingly said that he often mistook them for turkeys. The worst was the foul-smelling alkaline swamps they now traveled through. The soil and the water in this area was heavily impregnated with salt, alkali, and sulphur, making what little water there was undrinkable.
Luke was riding circles around the herd of spare oxen, cows and horses, trying to keep the thirsty animals away from the poisonous water. The bleached bones of animals around the alkali ponds told them what would happen if their livestock drank from this water.
“Take care, there’s another one,” Jacob Garfield said from the back of his gelding. He pointed to the left of the road.
Luke turned in the saddle, careful to keep an arm wrapped around Amy. Another small lake lay in front of them, ringed with a yellowish crust around its shore. “Oh, at last! That’s Saleratus Lake. Now it won’t be long until we reach Sweetwater River.”
“Saleratus Lake?” Jacob repeated.
“Yeah. See that alkaline crust on the shore? That’s saleratus,” Luke explained. “Tell your wife to gather some of it. It makes a good substitute for baking powder.”
In front of them, Luke could see her wagon, with Nora walking along, urging the tired oxen onward with a practiced crack of her whip. The oxen plodded through the sandy ground, their heads bobbing with weariness.
Finally, a large valley opened in front of them. The oxen fell into a clumsy trot.
The glittering band of the Sweetwater River appeared in front of them, clear and a hundred feet wide.
They stopped to water the animals, but then traveled on. An hour later, they reached the large granite mound that had loomed in the distance for days. It rose a hundred and thirty feet from the Sweetwater Valley, looking like a giant turtle.
The river ran by the foot of the giant boulder, and there was enough grass to last their animals for days. Captain McLoughlin decided that they would stay here for two days, celebrating Independence Day around the rock with the same name, like many other emigrants had done before them.
They circled the wagons and erected the tents under tall cedars and pines next to the river. As soon as they had tended the animals, most of the emigrants set out to climb Independence Rock. Wayne, the oldest Garfield boy, started the climb with two young girls of the train, promising to carve their names on top of the rock.
Luke had climbed Independence Rock before. She knew that it was covered with thousands of names from emigrants, trappers, and explorers, earning it the nickname “Great Desert Register”.
“Mama, I want to go, too!” Amy begged, tugging on Nora’s apron.
“I’m sorry, sweetie.” Nora stroked the red curls with one hand, while the other rested on her stomach. “I’m too tired to climb that rock, and you’re not old enough to go on your own.”
“Amy vewwy old!” the girl protested.
Nora sighed. “Amy…”
“It’s all right,” Luke interrupted. “I can take her.” When she saw Nora’s concerned motherly gaze, she added in her most reassuring voice, “It’s an easy climb, and I promise to take good care of her.”
“I go with Papa!” Amy hopped up and down, her big eyes begging Nora to allow it.
“All right,” Nora finally conceded.
Amy skipped towards Luke and grabbed her hand. It was an easy climb, but Luke was glad nonetheless that Nora had decided to stay down in camp. Since she had learned of Nora’s pregnancy, every slight risk the young woman took tended to make her nervous as hell. She looked back over her shoulder.
Nora stood watching them walk away, an expression almost like fear, or maybe sadness on her face.
Is she sad that she can’t go, too? “Just a second,” she said to Amy and turned back around. “How do you write ‘Nora’?”
“What? Why?”
“Since you can’t make it, I thought I would carve your name into the rock for you,” Luke offered.
Nora’s smile was oddly shy for a woman who had once been a prostitute. “I’d like that. Thank you.” She picked up a stick and drew the letters into the sandy soil.
“And Amy? How do you write that?”
Nora scratched three letters into the dust. “Can you remember that?”
Luke flashed a smile. “Well, you’ll never know if I get the letters mixed up, and Amy won’t tell, will you?”
“Nooo!” The girl giggled and shook her head, even though it was clear that she didn’t really know what the adults were talking about.
“All right, let’s go.” Luke held firmly onto the girl’s hand as they slowly made their way to the top. From the summit, she could see the Sweetwater that was meandering through the surrounding prairie until it tumbled through Devil’s Gate, the next landmark on their journey, to the west.
“Look, Papa! Little, little wagons!”
Luke knelt and wrapped an arm around the girl’s shoulder, making sure that she didn’t step too close to the edge. Only then did she take the time to look down. From on top of Independence Rock, other wagon trains that were approaching the Sweetwater looked tiny, like children’s toys. “I see them, Amy.” Truthfully, she was more preoccupied with the trustful way that Amy had tucked her small hand into her bigger one.
Amy finally grew tired of watching the wagons below. She turned to study the host of names, dates, and initials that were chiseled into the rock or painted on with axle grease. “There no more place!” she said with alarm.
“Oh, yes, there is.” Luke assured her, smiling. “Amy is a really short name, and so is Nora. There’s plenty of space for your names.” In her mind, she repeated the letters that Nora had drawn into the dust, hoping that she had memorized them correctly.
Amy gazed up at her. “Is ‘Papa’ a short name, too?”
Papa Hamilton, huh? Luke suppressed a grin. “Yes, it is. There’s enough place for all of them.” Directing Amy another step away from the edge, she drew her knife and started to carve a ‘N’ into the rock.
Compared with the softer sandstone of Register Cliff, another “natural register” of emigrants to the east, this was much harder work. She broke out in a sweat, but she continued to work, determined to leave the girl’s name and that of her mother on the rock. Finally, she stepped back. “There.”
Carved into the gray stone, side by side, were three names: Nora, Amy and Luke Hamilton.
Carved in stone, Luke repeated silently, staring down at the names with a sudden, frightening realization. She had never planned on being linked to a woman and a child for eternity, but now she was. It’s just a dumb rock, not a divination of your life.
“Papa?”
“Yeah?” She turned towards the child, but half her attention was still on the names in the rock’s surface.
Amy affectionately clutched her legs. “I love you.”
Luke told herself that it was only the thin air on top of the rock that robbed her of breath. She dragged the back of her hand over her eyes. Damn, that stingin’ dust is everywhere, even up here! With burning eyes, she stared at the girl, who expectantly gazed back. She wanted to remain silent or change the topic of conversation, anything to avoid making promises that she couldn’t keep, but she could still remember the many rejections during her own childhood and how much they had hurt.
Amy still stared at her without even blinking. As the seconds went by without a word from Luke, the hope in her eyes began to dim and was replaced with fear and disappointment.
“I…” Luke cleared her dry throat. “Amy…” She searched for words, but then she realized that there could only be one answer to Amy’s declaration of daughterly love. She took a deep breath. “I love you, too, sweetie.”
A big smile spread over Amy’s face.
Suddenly uncomfortable, Luke reached out a hand and tussled the girl’s locks, trying to relieve the emotionality of the moment. “All right. Let’s get back down that rock, before your mother starts to worry.”
* * *
“It’s green,” Nora announced, holding up the freshly baked leaf of bread.
Bernice Garfield looked up from her own bread dough. “Green as Irish clover,” she agreed with a grin.
“Mine, too.” Emeline Larson gazed at her leaf of bread with a horrified expression.
“Oh, don’t look so gloom. You used a bit too much saleratus, that’s all. It’ll taste slightly bitter, but it’s still eatable,” Bernice said, shrugging.
Nora nodded. Greenish bread wouldn’t impress Luke, but it certainly wouldn’t kill him either.
“I c-can’t let Bill see this!”
“Oh, come on, he’s no better than the rest of us. We all had to eat things that we wouldn’t have touched back home. He’s gonna have to eat it or go hungry,” Bernice told her.
Nora knew that it wasn’t that easy for Emeline. Bernice’s husband was good-natured and quiet, but Emeline’s wasn’t. The green bread would give Larson a reason to beat up his wife again – not that he really needed a reason most of the time. Just the way she was breathing seemed to enrage him sometimes.
Nora shuddered every time she thought about the fact that she could have ended up married to that kind of man. She had been lucky, but she never forgot that she could have easily been in Emeline’s place instead. “You know what? I’m gonna help you bake a new one, and this time, we’ll use less saleratus. Bill won’t have to know.”
“Oh, thank you, thank you! That’s so kind of you.”
Almost embarrassed by Emeline’s gratitude, Nora stood and moved towards her wagon. I better give her a bit from our supply of flour. Larson controls every aspect of her life; I’m sure he knows exactly how much flour was in their sack. She rounded the wagon and collided with the person who had leaned against their wagon’s back.
Broderick Cowen! Fear shot through her, paralyzing her for a few seconds. “What…?” She wanted to take a proud stance, wanted to demand to know what he was doing by their wagon, but she didn’t dare to. She couldn’t even look him in the eye.
“Ah, look at that.” He grinned down at her, but there was no humor in his gray eyes. They were cold as steel. “Nora Hamilton… or should I say Fleur, the Whore?”
Nora gasped. It had been more than two months since she had been called by that name. She had thought that she’d left that part of her life behind, but with Broderick Cowen, her past had caught up with her.
“What? You thought I wouldn’t remember you?” Cowen laughed. “We had an unforgettable night back in Independence, so how could I forget you? Imagine my delight in meeting you here, just when I thought that I wouldn’t have a woman until we arrive in Oregon.”
Thoughts and emotions were somersaulting through Nora’s head. “I-I’m married now!” was all she could get out.
Cowen snorted. “You don’t fool me. You’re no respectable woman, married or not. Once a whore, always a whore.” He grabbed her by the arms, pulled her against his body and roughly covered her mouth with his.
The feel of his body pressed against her rounded belly and his rough cheek against her skin made her stomach roil. Panic shot through Nora, but with instincts that had long since grown used to humiliations like that, she forced herself to stop struggling. She held still and hoped that it would be over soon and that no one in the wagon train would notice and start to question her past. Once a whore, always a whore. Maybe he’s right.
“Nora? Do you think you could maybe lend me some flour?” Emeline Larson’s voice came from the other side of the wagon, just a few steps away. “Nora?”
Cowen pushed her back, and she stumbled, almost falling. At the last second, she grabbed the edge of the wagon, preventing a fall, but scraping her hands in the process. With trembling fingers, she wiped her mouth and tried to put her hair into some semblance of order. Still holding onto the wagon, she stepped towards Emeline. “Yes, of course you can have some flour,” she answered, hoping that her voice wasn’t trembling.
Emeline came around the wagon. “Was that Brody Cowen? What did he want?”
Me. Nora pressed both hands against her stomach, feeling the nervous fluttering as the baby moved. “He… I… I think he wanted to talk to Luke.”
“About what?” Luke’s voice came from behind her.
Nora almost fell for the second time in less than a minute. No! Why does he have to return just yet? She was not ready to face him and his keen gray eyes.
“Mama, Mama, I goed all the way up the big rock! All on my own! Papa only helped a little!” Her cheerful daughter was a welcome distraction.
“That’s great, sweetie. I’m proud of you. Did you carve our names into the stone?” Nora tried to lose herself in the normalcy of the conversation and forget about her unpleasant encounter with Broderick Cowen. Up until two months ago, that was what she had been doing on a daily basis.
While Amy started to chatter away, Nora could feel Luke’s gaze on her.
“Are you all right?” he asked her quietly.
Nora bit her lip. Had she gotten so bad at hiding what she truly felt in such a short time? Or had he gotten so good at reading her? “I’m fine,” she quickly assured him.
“Your hands are bleeding,” Luke pointed out. His gray eyes gazed at her with concern, so unlike that of Brody Cowen, even if they were exactly the same color.
Nora looked down to where he was pointing at. Her hands were still resting on her belly, so the scratches were on open display. “Just a scratch. I stumbled and caught my clumsy self, that’s all.”
Emeline stared at her with wide eyes.
Nora imagined that she was all too familiar with “being clumsy”. She quickly shook her head at the young woman, begging her to say nothing.
“You stumbled? I thought those dizzy spells were finally over?” Luke awkwardly pointed at her stomach, indicating the pregnancy that had caused dizziness a few weeks ago.
“They are. My heel just caught on a stone, that’s all.” Being a good liar and actor had been a part of her former work, and she hoped that she was still good at it.
“Maybe you should rest for a bit,” Luke suggested.
The sincere concern in his voice began to thaw Nora’s heart that had been frozen with fear. “I will, as soon as we’ve finished baking bread.”
Luke nodded. “Good. Then I’m off to see what Brody wanted.”
Nora almost bit through her lip, tasting the bitter tang of copper on her tongue. No. Stay away from him. But she didn’t know what to say, and before she could think of something, Luke was gone.
* * *
Something wasn’t quite right with Nora. Luke could sense it, but she didn’t have the slightest idea as to what it was. Maybe it’s the baby… She had never been around pregnant women for any length of time, so she wasn’t sure what to expect as the pregnancy progressed. Maybe pregnant women do become clumsy when their bellies grow…
She shook herself out of her concerned brooding when she detected Brody sitting by his fire, smoking a pipe.
He smiled as she took a place next to him and immediately offered her the pipe.
Luke didn’t care for tobacco, but she had learned that this was part of the price that she paid for living in disguise. Smoking and drinking were often part of male camaraderie, and if she wanted to be regarded as a man, she couldn’t reject these offers.
With an inward sigh, she took the pipe and inhaled as shallowly as she could get away with.
“So,” Brody began, taking back his pipe, “how was Independence Rock?”
Luke shrugged. “Big.” She had learned that most men didn’t lose a lot of words describing the scenery, so she acted accordingly.
“Not too big for that young’un of yours?”
A mental picture of Amy bravely marching up the rock appeared before her mind’s eye and she felt an affectionate smile build on her lips. “No, she was fine. She’s a feisty one.”
“So is her mother, huh?” Brody looked at her through a veil of smoke.
Luke frowned. Feisty wasn’t the first word that came to mind when she thought about Nora. If she had to use just one word to describe the woman she had married, it would have been “survivor”. Nora was good at adjusting and doing anything necessary to ensure the well-being of her daughter. Luke knew from experience that the men that visited brothels liked their women to be submissive, so Nora had learned to hide away her feistiness, a quick wit, and a keen intelligence. Only now that Luke had shown her again and again that she wanted a wife who thought for herself and was not afraid to offer her opinion, did she catch glimpses of how Nora had been before she had become Fleur.
But from what she had seen, Nora didn’t feel comfortable with Brody. She eyed Luke’s new friend with distrust and tended to keep her distance, so Luke wasn’t sure what Brody’s comment was referring to.
“Feisty?” she asked, trying to discern Brody’s expression through the smoke of his pipe.
Brody shrugged, but didn’t explain why he thought Nora feisty. “How did you met her?”
Luke blinked. No one had ever asked her about their marriage, so she hadn’t worked out what details to tell people about their imaginary first meeting or courtship. “Oh, you know…the usual…”
“And what’s that? I’ve never been married, so you better explain,” Brody said with a grin.
“We…kinda…ran into each other in front of the livery stable, and I offered to escort her home.” Luke didn’t want to lie to her new friend, and this was at least partly true.
Brody blew rings of smoke into the air. “Did her family own that stable?”
Why does he ask all these questions? In Luke’s experience, men seldom asked a lot of questions about relationships, but for some reason, Brody seemed to have taken a special interest in Nora. “No, she… had an employment nearby. She was a seamstress,” she added before he could ask.
“Seamstress? Is that what she told you?”
A piece of wood cracked under Luke’s feet as she half-straightened and turned more towards Brody to stare at him. Despite the cautious friendship she had formed with him, she felt her hackles rise. “What are you implying?”
Brody knocked out his pipe against the felled trunk he was sitting on. “I’m not sure I should tell you… I don’t want to cause trouble between you and your wife.”
“You won’t.” Whatever Brody might tell her about Nora, she was sure that it wouldn’t surprise her, but she wanted to know what Brody knew about Nora’s past and what she had to do to protect Nora from becoming the object of gossip.
Brody leaned forward, fixing an intense gaze on Luke. “Well… this will come as a shock to you, but… I have reason to believe that your wife is a prostitute.”
Luke felt the blood rush to her face, coloring her cheeks – not with embarrassment, but with anger. She forced herself to remain sitting and unclenched her hands before she answered stiffly, “She is nothing of the kind. She’s my wife, a good mother, and a decent person.”
“I understand that you don’t want to believe—”
“I know what she’s been, but that’s the past, and it doesn’t matter now,” Luke interrupted. Brody probably meant well and thought he was doing Luke a favor by enlightening her about Nora’s past, but she didn’t want it spread around camp.
“You know that she worked as—?”
“Yes.”
Brody shook his head in confusion. “And still you think it doesn’t matter? It doesn’t matter to you that she shared her bed with thousands of men before you? It doesn’t matter that you’re probably not the father of the bastard that she’s trying to pin on you?”
Every muscle in Luke’s body stiffened. She felt protective instincts rise that she hadn’t even known she possessed. “This baby is not a bastard, and Nora is not trying to pin anything on me!” She saw other emigrants look over from their own campfires, and quickly lowered her voice. “I know you mean well, but you’re not doing me any favors by bringing up Nora’s past. I’m asking you to keep quiet about it. Please.” It had been a long time since she had asked a favor of someone, but protecting Nora was more important than pride.
“You’re running headlong into disaster, son.” Brody pointed the mouthpiece of his pipe at Luke. “What spell has she put you under? I know that she’s an enticing woman, but—”
“Stop.” Luke had waited all her life for someone to call her son – or daughter – and show her some fatherly concern, but right now it was only annoying her. It was a bittersweet experience. “I know of her past, and if it doesn’t matter to me, it shouldn’t matter to anyone else. So please keep quiet about it.”
“If that’s what you want.” Brody stiffly put away his pipe and stood. “But you’re gonna change your opinion when that naïve infatuation has worn off.” Not waiting for an answer, he walked away.
* * *
Nora leaned back against the wagon wheel, slowly nibbling on the tender meat of a quail to make it last while she listened to the lively music.
All around her, her fellow travelers were laughing, singing and dancing to celebrate Independence Day. Nora watched as Wayne Garfield swung around one girl after another, and even Bill Larson stiffly led his wife across the improvised dance-floor.
“Hey,” Bernice Garfield leaned over to offer her a piece of freshly baked bread. “Why don’t you join the others? You’re still young, so why not enjoy a dance with your husband?”
Nora stole a glance at Luke. He was sitting back, only watching the activities around him. After the harsh rebuff at the hoedown the day before they had left Independence, she didn’t dare to ask him to dance again. “I’m pregnant and tired and my feet are swollen enough as it is,” Nora told her.
“Oh, nonsense!” Bernice gave her an encouraging shove towards the other dancers. “None of my pregnancies kept me from dancing! I had to be dragged off the dance-floor the night I gave birth to Wayne.”
“I don’t remember it quite that way,” Jacob Garfield started to say, but Bernice quickly shushed him.
“You two are the most newlywed couple among us, so you should lead out the next waltz,” Bernice explained resolutely.
Jacob tapped Luke on the shoulder as the three-man orchestra struck up the strains of a waltz.
Dragging his feet, Luke tried to escape the inevitable, but when the Captain joined Jacob Garfield in his efforts, he finally slunk over to Nora. “May I have this dance?” He awkwardly offered her his hand.
Nora closed her fingers around his. Luke’s palm was a bit clammy, despite the coldness of the night air. She had a sudden insight that he hadn’t danced with too many women. I’m not sure if he’s done anything with too many women – or any woman at all. “Do you know how to dance?” she asked him quietly. Maybe that was the reason why he refused to dance with her.
One corner of Luke’s mouth curled upward. “Are you afraid for your toes?”
Nora felt herself returning the smile. “Do they have anything to fear?”
“I’ve been an officer,” Luke said with false indignation.
“You’re stallin’, Lucas Hamilton!” Bernice said from behind them. “Dance with your wife!”
Hesitantly, Luke took a step toward her and rested his hand on her waist in a touch so light that she could hardly feel it. He made sure to keep a more than respectable distance as he led her in the dance.
Nora’s fingers came to rest in the curve of his shoulder. She could feel his muscles flex under the linen of his shirt, and she followed his movements in the swirling steps of the dance. The gentle pressure of his hand on the small of her back guided her without force.
The fingers that held hers twitched, and his gaze often slid away from hers, clearly showing her how uncomfortable he felt. I don’t. I don’t feel uncomfortable at all, she realized. In fact, she couldn’t remember when she had felt so comfortable with any man.
Not even in the presence of her father or one of her brothers had she felt so relaxed, like she truly could be herself.
She had often danced with the customers of the brothel, but it had been nothing like dancing with Luke. Her customers had constantly tried to press her against their bodies, had trailed their hands down her back and grabbed her bottom, or had taken advantage of their closeness to ogle down her cleavage. Luke did none of these things. Even when her protruded belly rubbed against his lap, he didn’t try to pull her closer. The only reaction was the blush that crawled up his neck.
He’s truly unlike any man I’ve ever known. She sighed. He’s also the only man who’s ever resisted my charms.
“Are you all right?” Luke asked. “I didn’t hurt your toes, did I?”
Nora quickly shook of her thoughts and looked up from the place where her belly touched his body. “No. No, they’re fine.”
Luke nodded, but she could feel him pull her a bit closer, as if he tried to ward off anything that could hurt her or make her sad.
Another couple danced too close to them, almost causing a collision. Nora felt herself swung around in a tight circle and almost lost her balance, but Luke’s arms held her. She stared up into the gray eyes. Something flickered in the silvery irises, and Nora was sure that it wasn’t just the fire’s reflection.
She wasn’t sure how it had happened or who had started it, but suddenly, she found herself kissing him. His lips were softer than she had expected, and they moved against hers in a movement as gentle as a whisper.
She clutched his shoulders, not aware and not caring if they were still dancing or not.
With a gasp, Luke pulled back and held her at arm-length. His face looked flushed in the firelight. “I…I can’t.”
A wave of dizziness swept over Nora.
Once again, Luke caught her before she could fall.
She closed her eyes for a second, enjoying the warmth of his body against hers, warding off the cool air. “I told Bernice that it wasn’t a good idea to waltz while pregnant,” she mumbled into the fabric of his shirt, even though she wasn’t sure if the pregnancy had anything to do with her wobbly legs.
“Come on, I’ll take you home… to the tent, I mean,” he quickly corrected.
Home... The tent or the wagon weren’t exactly comfortable homes, but they had become places that she belonged to.
They quietly slipped into the tent where Amy was already sleeping.
While Nora undressed, Luke turned away and busied himself with covering Amy with another blanket. “Luke?” she said into the darkness.
He didn’t turn around. “Yeah?”
“Why…?” She faltered, not knowing how to continue. There were so many whys, so many unasked questions between them that she didn’t know where to start.
Luke’s sigh echoed through the darkness. “It’s complicated.”
That was the one thing that she had already known. From their very first meeting, nothing between them had ever been easy and uncomplicated. “Then please try to explain, because frankly, I don’t understand you at all – and I want to.” She moved closer, trying to make out his face in the darkness. “You enjoyed that kiss.” As much as I did, she silently added, but didn’t voice the thought. Her mother had taught her that a good woman was not supposed to react in any way to her husband’s sexual attentions, she only endured her husband’s desires for the sole purpose of bearing children.
Luke was silent for a long time. When his answer came, it was barely audible. “Yes, but—”
“Then why did you stop?”
“It’s just not right…”
“Not right?” Nora repeated, disbelief coloring her voice. “We’re married, Luke, what could be wrong with—”
A shadow against the tent cover showed Luke tearing at his hair. “You don’t understand the situation!”
“No, I clearly don’t.” Nora was beyond frustration.
“Nora, I…”
“Mama?” Amy sat up under her blankets.
Nora didn’t know if she should be angry or glad at the interruption. Too upset to speak, she knelt down next to her daughter.
Amy immediately reached for her. “Mama…”
“I’m here, sweetie.” She settled the girl against her, careful not to press her too hard against her growing belly. “Did you have a bad dream?”
Amy nodded, snuggling against her with a relieved sigh. “Mama?” she asked after a moment, her small fingers tentatively feeling Nora’s belly. “Is there a baby growing in your belly?”
Nora stroked the reddish locks. “Yes, sweetie. You’ll have a sister or a brother soon.” Not soon enough for me, but soon.
“How did it get in there?” Amy thumbed her belly, testing its solidness.
“Uh…” Nora had been afraid of that innocent question for some time. She had heard another expecting mother explain her pregnancy to her children…when a man and a woman love each other very much and they get married… But her husband wasn’t the baby’s father, and it certainly hadn’t been conceived in love.
Behind her, Luke awkwardly cleared his throat, clearly embarrassed by the girl’s question.
“Papa!” Amy let go of her mother, crawled into his lap and promptly fell back asleep.
“Uff!” Luke looked down at the sleeping girl. “Saved by the sandman, huh?”
“She’ll ask again,” Nora predicted.
Luke stood and gently settled Amy back down under her blankets. “Then you’ll have to handle that. I don’t have any idea what to tell her.”
“You think I do?”
Luke shrugged. “You’re her mother…”
“And you think that guarantees that I have an answer to all her questions? Well, I don’t. I don’t know how to explain this to her. She’s much too young to understand the line of work that I was in – and I pray that she’ll never have to know.”
“She won’t,” Luke said fiercely.
With men like Broderick Cowen in the train, Nora wasn’t so sure, but she said nothing.
* * *
“Devil’s Gate? Damn, that sounds inviting,” Brody Cowen muttered.
Luke half-turned in the saddle to look back at him. “It’s not that bad. We’re not going through it, we have to go around.”
Right in front of them, still in sight of Independence Rock, was Devil’s Gate, a huge, narrow cleft that the Sweetwater River had carved through the high granite rocks on either side. The cleft was only thirty feet wide at the base, where the Sweetwater shot through the crack, much too narrow for the wagons to pass through, so they had detoured to the south.
Some emigrants had left the wagon train to climb to the top and peer over the edge or wade the river through Devil’s Gate.
As much as Luke had wanted to join them, to escape from the wagon train and Nora’s intent gaze that she could feel rest on her throughout the day, she kept a watchful eye on the gathering clouds and preferred to stay with the wagons and the herd.
From time to time, she would relieve Nora from steering the wagon, but she found that she couldn’t really look her in the eye after last night’s kiss. You’re an idiot, she told herself again and again. What did you think you were doing, huh? Guilt and confusion had kept her awake half of the night. She told herself again and again how wrong it was to kiss Nora, even if it had felt so very right. Nora didn’t know who she really was, and Luke was sure that she wouldn’t have even thought about kissing her if she had known. By kissing her without her knowing, you’re taking her choice away! You’re doing exactly what all these customers did from whom you wanted to rescue her.
The heavy bank of clouds above them was as dark as her mood, blocking out the sun and throwing shadows over the rolling prairie. The wind had picked up and brought with it a damp smell that promised rain. The sky got darker by the minute until Luke could hardly see Split Rock anymore, the “gun-sight notch” in the top of the Rattlesnake Range that aimed them directly at South Pass.
From the front of the wagon train came the sign to make camp. They hastily set up the tents and anchored the wagons by driving stakes into the ground and fastening the wheels to them with heavy chains.
Before they could even think about making a fire, the first rain drops mingled with the wind and within seconds, a pelting shower was falling from the sky.
Luke turned in a circle, searching for Nora, and found her wading through the mud to unyoke the oxen. “Stay in the tent with Amy!” Luke shouted over the sounds of chaos in camp. “I’m gonna take care of the oxen.” Not wanting to take the risk of Nora slipping in the mud, she took over the task.
“But—”
“Go!”
Without further protest, Nora clutched Amy against her side and hurried over to the tent.
Luke quickly freed the oxen from their wooden yokes and led them into the corral formed by the circled wagons. When she finally reached the tent, she was soaked to the bone. She took off her hat and shook her head.
Amy giggled as droplets of rain sprayed to all sides. “Eeww! Like a dog!”
“Here.” Nora came over with a towel and began to rub down Luke’s hair.
“I can do it.” Luke tried to take the towel from her, but Nora didn’t let go.
She continued down Luke’s neck, gently dabbed her face with the towel and took care to dry her ears. When the gentle touch made Luke shiver, Nora ordered, “Take off these sopping clothes.”
Despite the wet clothes, heat shot up Luke’s body as a wave of panic hit her. She gazed around wildly, looking for a way out, any excuse to leave the tent.
Finally abandoning the towel, Nora bent down and searched in one of the bags for a dry shirt. “Aah!” She froze in mid-movement and clutched her belly with both hands.
Luke leaped forward. In one big step, she was at Nora’s side and reached out a hand to touch her, to make sure she was all right. “What is it? Is it…the baby?”
Nora was still bend over, but she had let go of the shirt. Her face was paler than the linen as she stared up at Luke with wide, scared eyes. “It hurts,” she groaned through clenched teeth.
“Mama!” Amy rushed forward and reached out her hands to clutch her mother’s skirts.
“No!” Luke quickly stopped her, enfolding the girl in her own arms instead. “Don’t touch your mama, little one. She has a belly-ache.” She felt Amy tremble in her embrace, and for a second, she was completely overwhelmed, not knowing what to do. Then she took a deep breath. No time for panic now! They’re depending on you. “Maybe you should lie down?” she suggested.
One palm still pressed against her belly, Nora reached out a trembling hand.
Gently gripping her elbow, Luke helped to ease her down. “Amy,” she said as calmly as she could, “I have a very important task for you. Run over to the Garfield’s tent and tell Bernice to come. Can you do that?”
With tears running down her face, the girl nodded.
“Good. I’m proud of you.” Luke gently directed the girl to the tent’s flap, away from her whimpering mother. “Stay with Jacob, all right?”
As soon as the crying Amy had slipped from the tent, Luke knelt down next to Nora. “Nora…” She gently touched the clammy face, stroked damp red strands. “What can I do?”
“I-I don’t know. I don’t know what this is.” Every muscle in her body was tense. “It’s almost like… It feels like it did when I gave birth to Amy. It’s too soon, Luke, it’s…God, that hurts!”
Luke stared down at her. Fear gripped her, so intense like she hadn’t experienced since fighting for her life against the Mexicans. Hot tears burned her eyes at the terrifying thought that Nora might lose the baby. She slid down until she was sitting on the damp ground and pulled Nora up so that she was resting across her lap, steadied in her embrace.
“If I…the baby…”
Luke gently laid a finger across Nora’s lips. “Hush, you’re gonna be fine. Both of you. It will be all right. Rest now, relax. I’m here with you.” She pressed her lips against the crown of Nora’s head that rested just under her chin. She concentrated on the almost translucent skin, on the tendrils of hair that hung damply into Nora's face. Suddenly, everything about Nora seemed fragile and precious.
“Luke...”
“It's all right. It's all right,” Luke said, willing it to be so. She could feel Nora tremble in her arms, and she tightened her hold on her. Luke hadn’t prayed for a lot of years, preferring to take her fate into her own hands, but now, as they waited in terrified silence, she found her lips moving in silent prayer.
“That box…” Sobs shook Nora’s body. “I shouldn’t have lifted it down from the wagon. “If—”
Luke shushed her once again. “You’re only making yourself more upset. You didn’t do anything wrong.” She stroked her face with her fingertips, soothingly trailed her palms down Nora’s arms and then gently laid her hand on Nora’s belly, silently telling the unborn child to stay put.
Nora rested both of her hands over Luke’s, clutching her fingers in a death-grip.
They waited while heavy raindrops pelted the tent cover. Thunder boomed from time to time, sounding closer and closer. The tent started to leak and pools built. Rainwater saturated the soil. Luke felt the water soak through her pants, but she ignored it and pulled Nora higher on her lap, concentrating on keeping her warm and dry.
Their own little universe, that consisted just of the two of them and their shared fear, was interrupted as the tent flap lifted. “What happened?” Bernice Garfield entered, shedding her wet coat.
“I don’t know! I bent down and suddenly, there was this sharp pain, and now I have these cramps…I think it’s the baby!” Nora’s fingers bore into Luke’s forearms, but she suffered the pain in silence, as if she could somehow take away Nora’s pain by bearing it herself.
Bernice knelt down.
Glad that help had finally arrived, Luke tried to move back to give Bernice room to work, but Nora didn’t let go of her. “Please, stay.”
Bernice gave her a silent nod and continued her examination around her.
Anxiously watching the older woman, Nora pressed her cheek against Luke’s shoulder while they waited for Bernice to say something.
“Just a second,” Bernice mumbled and hurried out. She returned just a minute later, carrying a cup. “Drink this.”
“What is this?” Luke asked while she helped Nora hold the cup steady and bring it to her lips.
“A mixture of herbs,” Bernice answered. “It should help with the cramps.”
Nora grimaced, but swallowed bravely. She emptied the cup and let her head sink back against Luke’s shoulder.
They all waited with baited breath.
“Luke?” Brody Cowen stuck his head through the flap. “The Captain needs you.”
Luke looked up, glancing at the waiting Brody, then back down at Nora, who was looking up at her with pain in her eyes. After a lifetime of following orders and respecting authority, Luke didn’t even hesitate. “Not now.”
“But—”
“Whatever it is, it has to wait,” Luke decided. “I won’t leave my wife now.”
“You…You can go. I’ll be fine,” Nora said bravely, but the grip of her fingers on Luke’s sent another message.
Luke didn’t move from her place, holding Nora. “Get someone else to help you, Brody. I won’t come right now.”
With a grunt, Brody turned and disappeared.
Nora’s fingers tightened around Luke’s, and then they slowly began to relax as the herbs did their work and the cramps started to ease.
“How are you? Better now?” Luke noticed that she was whispering, almost afraid to talk too loudly.
She felt Nora’s head bob against her shoulder as she nodded weakly. “Tired…,” she mumbled.
“That’s the herbs,” Bernice explained. “They help her relax, stop the cramps and make her sleepy.” She picked up the empty cup and stood.
Luke suddenly realized that Bernice was about to return to her own family and would leave her alone with Nora once again. “Bernice,” she said with alarm, looking down at the drowsy woman in her lap, “is she gonna be all right?”
“Yeah, I think so. She needs some rest now.”
“And the baby? Is it…?” Luke couldn’t finish the sentence, too afraid to voice her worries out loud.
Bernice lifted her hands in a helpless gesture. “We won’t know for sure until it’s born. But for now, it should be all right. The contractions stopped. Let’s just hope that everything stays quiet tonight and we don’t have to break up camp in the middle of the night again. It wouldn’t be good for Nora.”
Luke nodded grimly and watched her walk towards the flap. “Bernice?” She waited until the older woman had turned around to look at her. “Thank you for coming over to help us.”
“You’re welcome. Amy can stay with us tonight, if you want to,” Bernice offered.
Looking at Nora, who was already half asleep, Luke started to nod. She would have enough on her hands just caring for Nora. But then she thought about how Amy would feel if they left her with the Garfields. She could still remember the many times when she’d had to stay with other people as a child, staring at the wall all night and wondering what and how her mother was doing. “No, thank you. I think it would be better if she stays with us. She has to see for herself that her mother is well.”
Bernice nodded with appreciation. “You’re right. I’ll bring her over.”
As Bernice left, Luke stood and crouched down. “Hold on to me.” With a groan, she lifted Nora and carried her over to her bedroll. Gently, she settled her down and spread the covers over her.
“You should finally change out of that shirt,” Nora mumbled, looking up at her.
Luke fingered her sleeve. The fabric had dried in the meantime. “It’s dry now, but we should get you into your nightwear.” She searched in Nora’s bag until she found a nightshirt that hadn’t gotten wet in the rain. Then she looked down at Nora, waiting for her to undress, but Nora lay without moving, her eyes half-closed. Biting her lip, Luke began to unbutton her bodice.
Nora didn’t react, but her gaze followed Luke’s fingers as they moved from button to button and finally stripped off bodice and skirt.
For a second, Luke gently touched her fingertips to Nora’s bulging belly.
Their gazes met.
“I was so scared,” Nora whispered.
Luke took her hand, squeezing it. “Yeah, me too.”
“Really?”
Luke just nodded. She didn’t know how to explain what she had felt during those terrifying minutes.
“Mama?” Amy’s voice came from outside.
Quickly, Luke eased the nightshirt over Nora’s head and pulled it down just as Bernice entered with the girl.
Nora held out her arms. A sobbing Amy sank into her mother’s embrace.
Luke settled one arm around each of them and nodded her thanks at Bernice over their heads.
With a nod in return, Bernice slipped from the tent.
“Will you lie with us?” Nora asked, turning her head to look into Luke’s eyes.
Luke rubbed the bump on the bridge of her nose. She knew that she should probably head out and help the Captain with whatever task he needed her to do, but she couldn’t bring herself to leave Nora just yet. Awkwardly she slid down until she rested along the edge of Nora’s bedroll.
Amy immediately snuggled down between them, and with a content sigh, she fell asleep.
Knowing she would not sleep tonight, Luke kept her eyes open and gazed over Amy’s small body at Nora.
Nora’s eyelids drooped, but she fought against sleep, returning Luke’s gaze.
“Sleep now,” Luke encouraged her.
“Luke?” the Captain’s deep voice came from the tent’s opening. “You there?”
With a regretful gaze to Nora, Luke turned. “I’m here.” She stood and stepped towards him. For some reason, she didn’t want him to enter and disturb the peace in the tent.
Abe McLoughlin stood in the still pouring rain, his beard dripping and his eyes wild. “Luke, we need you. The herd is nervous as hell in this weather, and I don’t trust those deadbeats and greenhorns with ‘em. One wrong move and they’ll stampede for sure!”
Sighing, Luke looked back over her shoulder. In the almost-darkness, she could see Nora’s gaze resting on her and saw her reluctant nod. “All right. I’m coming.” Under the pretense of collecting her hat, she turned and knelt down next to Nora. “Will you be all right on your own?”
Nora felt for her hand and squeezed it. “I’ll be fine. Take care of yourself, please.”
With a grim nod, Luke settled the hat on her head, turned and walked out into the rain.
* * *
She directed Measles along the edge of the herd, circling them in some distance. One lightning bolt after another flashed across the sky, showing her the restlessly milling oxen, mules, and horses. One of the dairy cows lifted her head, the white of her eyes gleaming, and gave a panicked moo.
On the other side of the herd, barely visible through the curtain of rain, Wayne Garfield ventured a little too close to the nervous animals. Gripping the reins tighter, Luke tried to give him a sign to back away, but Wayne didn’t even look in her direction. She wanted to shout a warning, but she knew that every yell, every unexpected sound could cause a stampede, so she just watched with growing concern.
Another flash of lightning zigzagged across the sky, bathing the prairie in white light for a second. Then thunder boomed right above them.
The herd bolted into the darkness of the night, not caring what stood in their way.
Oh, shit! Luke suddenly realized that they were heading right for her. The black drove looked like one big, impenetrable wall as they came closer and closer. Luke reacted instinctively. Ducking over Measles’ crest, she let the mare surge forward, racing just ahead of the stampeding herd.
One quick glance over her shoulder showed her that she was gaining on them, and she breathed a sigh of relief – until she remember in which direction they were running. They were heading straight for the corralled wagons and tents less than a mile away.
Luke could make out the lanterns in some of the tents, but there was no movement. She couldn’t even see a guard watching over the camp. Everyone who wasn’t out with the herd, was probably asleep or resting unsuspectingly in one of the tents. They probably think that roar in the air is caused by thunder, not a stampeding herd.
Nora! Amy!
There was no time, no place for letting the herd run themselves out. If they didn’t change their direction, they would trample right over the tents and the sleeping emigrants.
Even if someone noticed the herd before it reached them and the emigrants hastily fled from their tents, Luke knew what that could mean for Nora. Bernice Garfield had warned them that she might lose the baby if she didn’t get some rest tonight.
Instead of breaking off to the left, away from the herd behind her, Luke galloped straight ahead. With one hand, she lifted her Walker Colt, firing shot after shot into the air to frighten the animals behind her away from the camp.
Another bolt of lighting illuminated the sky, giving her a glimpse of the roiling mass bearing down on her. They hadn’t changed their direction. The sounds of her shots had mingled with the roar of thunder and hooves, and had done nothing to slow the herd.
Damn! Gritting her teeth, Luke drew her rifle from its scabbard and turned around in the saddle. She was holding on just with her legs now. She lifted the rifle and sighted down the barrel.
In the darkness, it was almost impossible to make out individual animals in the black mass. Then, a bolt of lightning momentarily shattered the darkness.
There was no time for hesitation. Luke pulled the trigger.
McLoughlin’s big lead steer fell. The confused cattle that followed behind him veered slightly to one side.
Not enough! They had almost reached the camp now.
Luke squeezed the trigger again. The ox that had taken the lead stumbled, then fell, making the others veer even more to the side.
Then, suddenly, Wayne and Brody were there. Luke slowed her mare, and the three of them forced the cattle in the front even farther to the side. With the first tents just ten yards to the right, they thundered past the camp.
The riders forced them to the left, until they ran themselves out in a wide circle.
Coughing and gasping, Wayne Garfield slid from his horse. He was visibly trembling as he looked up at Luke. “I’m sorry, I…”
Luke was too shaken to talk. The thought of how close she had gotten to losing Nora and Amy was the only thing on her mind. She just nodded at the young man, and directed her mare towards the tents without a word.
“Luke?” Nora blinked up at her when she slipped quietly into the tent. “Is it still raining? I thought I heard…”
“Yeah, just raining,” Luke said. “But I think it’ll be quieter now.”
Nora reached out a hand, gently touching Luke’s shoulder. “Your shirt is wet again.”
She gazed down. Not only was her shirt dripping wet, it was covered in sweat, mud, and grass. Knowing that neither she nor Nora had the energy for another fight about changing clothes, Luke turned around and, in the darkness of the tent, slipped the wet shirt off and a new one on, hoping that Nora wouldn’t notice that she had left the damp undershirt in place.
“Doesn’t the Captain need you anymore?”
“No.” The herd was all run out now, too tired for another stampede. “He doesn’t.”
“Good,” Nora whispered, “because I do.”
Suddenly, Luke wanted to step out into the rain and run in blind panic, like the herd had. She didn’t know what, but something had definitely changed between them tonight. Staying aloof and objective was no longer an option. Searching for words, but finding none, she lay down next to Nora, but took care to keep Amy between them. She closed her eyes and concentrated on her aching muscles, everything to keep her thoughts away from the woman next to her and what could have happened to her tonight. She still hadn’t succeeded when she felt Nora’s hand grasping her own.
“Do you mind? I don’t think I can sleep without…”
Luke smoothed her thumb over Nora’s palm. “It’s all right.” In the dim light in the tent, she studied the slender fingers, the work-roughened palms and the delicate curve of her wrist. “Hey, what’s this?” She gently rubbed over a greenish, almost faded spot at the underside of Nora’s wrist, easily visible because the skin was paler there.
Nora turned her hand, hiding the bruise. “It’s nothing. One of the oxen got a bit overzealous when I fed them, that’s all.”
“Even naming one of them Snow-white didn’t make them more cautious about food, huh?” Luke smiled down at her, then closed her eyes. For the first time in her life, she fell asleep holding someone’s hand.
* * *
“I could really learn to hate this river,” Bernice sighed, sending resentful glances towards the gentle Sweetwater River. “This must be the hundredth time we had to cross it.”
Nora smiled tiredly. It wasn’t the hundredths time, but it felt pretty close to it. The Sweetwater was notorious for twisting back on itself. Unlike the river, the emigrants had somewhere to be and weren’t content to meander gently across the landscape. Therefore, they were forced to cross the river time after time. “Didn’t someone mention that we could avoid three crossings if we take the Deep Sand Route?”
“Yeah, we could, but after last night, the oxen are too exhausted to pull the wagons through the deep sand,” Bernice answered, looking up from the noon meal that she was preparing.
After last night? Nora furrowed her brow, but Bernice oldest daughter distracted her from asking about it.
The sixteen year old girl sat down next to Nora and rested her chin on her folded hands, intently gazing at Luke who was using the noon break to grease the wagon’s axle. “Oh my, he’s marvelous,” she sighed.
Nora gave her a tolerant smile. She hadn’t been much older than the girl when she had gotten pregnant with Amy, but she could barely remember ever being so naïve and innocent. But I have to admit, if I had to spend my time gazing adoringly at someone, it would probably be Luke.
“He’s a true hero! Wayne told me exactly how he led the stampeding herd away from camp, risking his own life!” Hannah Garfield enthused.
Nora’s frying pan almost slipped into the fire. “Stampeding herd?” she echoed. “Risking his own life? What are you talking about?”
Hannah finally looked away from Luke. “You haven’t heard?”
Now Nora was the one staring at Luke. “No, obviously I haven’t. What happened?”
“The herd stampeded last night and raced right towards the camp, with only Luke between them and us to stop them! He was so close to them that he could have touched them! They had almost reached us when he shot the lead steer and forced the herd to veer to the side!” Hannah’s eyes sparkled with excitement.
Nora however wasn’t excited at all to hear that Luke had risked his life without even telling her about it.
“It was a very foolish thing to do,” Bill Larson said from his place at the fire.
Nora looked at him in dismay. She knew that her level-headed husband wouldn’t have risked his life if there had been another way, but it wasn’t her place to openly contradict a male member of the wagon train.
“He should have just rode ahead and warned us, instead of shooting our best steer,” Larson grumbled.
“There wouldn’t have been enough time to break up camp,” Bernice objected.
Nora froze. Breaking up camp? Again, she heard Bernice’s words from the night before: Let’s just hope that everything stays quiet tonight and we don’t have to break up camp in the middle of the night again. It wouldn’t be good for Nora. She stared at Luke who was just crawling out from under the wagon. Is that why he risked his life to direct the herd away from camp? For me?
Last night had certainly changed the way she saw her husband. To see his reaction to the almost-miscarriage, to see the fear in the gray eyes told her more than any declarations that he would accept the baby as his own. She could still feel his gentle hands soothing her as cramps had wracked her body.
Never before had she felt so safe, so comforted in the presence of a man. Some of her customers had been kind and gentle, a few had even professed feelings of love for her, but Nora had never felt close to any of them. Being in Luke’s company felt different from being with any other man. She tried to pinpoint what exactly it was that made Luke so different, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.
“I think your beans are done,” Bernice interrupted her thoughts.
Quickly, Nora stood to take the big kettle from its hook over the fire.
“Ah, ah, ah! Hold on, let me do this!” Luke stepped around her and lifted the pot down. When he saw the astonished gazes of Nora and the others, he added, “There’s no need for you to lift these heavy things when I’m around.”
After years of having to fend for herself, it was hard to depend on someone for everything. “But…it’s not fair that you have to do all the work,” she protested. At the very beginning of their journey, she had sworn herself that she would prove herself a worthy pioneer woman, not a pampered city wife.
“You’re doing the most important work,” Luke emphasized, pointing at her belly.
Automatically, Nora’s hands wandered to her belly. She pressed her lips together as she felt the lack of movement that continued since last night.
“Besides, if you want to do some work, you could take your daughter to the river and clean her up,” Luke suggested with a grin.
“I helped Papa!” a grease-smeared Amy piped up.
Nora had to laugh. “I can see that. Come on, let’s go clean up.” As she led Amy down to the river bank, she could feel Luke’s gaze on her. Luke had stayed close to her all day, which was a relief for more than one reason. On top of her worries about the baby, she didn’t feel up to dealing with Brody Cowen and since Luke hadn’t strayed from her side, he had kept away.
As she knelt down at the river’s edge, a healthy kick almost made her topple into the water. With flailing arms, she fought for balance.
“Nora!” Luke leaped over the fire and skidded down the bank. “What is it?”
“The baby!” Nora felt hot tears slide down her cheeks.
Luke’s eyes widened in panic. He started to wave for Bernice.
“No! It’s kicking! I felt it move for the first time since last night!” Nora laughed in delight. She grabbed Luke’s hand and pressed it against her belly. Right at that moment, the baby gave a second kick, then a third.
Luke almost stumbled in relief. “Oh, thank God!”
They came together in a spontaneous embrace, his hand still between them, resting on Nora’s belly.
Nora tightened her arms around his neck, breathing in his comforting scent.
“Mama, I want to feel the baby, too!” Amy shouted next to them.
Luke quickly loosened his hold on her, visibly embarrassed that he’d been so overwhelmed by emotion.
Amy took his place, eagerly touching Nora’s belly with her small hands.
As she held still, Nora swore that she would never complain about the baby’s kicks keeping her awake again.
* * *
Luke drew back her aching arm and flicked her whip again to keep the sluggish oxen moving. The big animals strained heads-down against the rattling chains. They were moving even slower than usual in the stifling heat. Their pace was too slow to escape the cloud of dust, so it had settled over their clothing and coated the flanks of oxen and horses.
Even Nora’s reddish eyebrows were almost white under a layer of dust. Luke watched her sneeze and lick her chapped lips.
Luke squinted against the bright sun and gazed ahead, hoping to find a resting spot for Nora and the others. Behind them lay only miles of shadeless trail, but ahead she could see a shallow basin covered with a variety of marsh grasses and green-brown tufts. Water glittered silvery in the sun.
“Hold back the oxen,” Luke shouted back to the other wagons. “The water’s alkaline.”
Nora gazed longingly at the water, then, after Luke’s warning, marched on with a sigh.
“How would the two of you like a glass of cool lemonade with ice?” Luke asked, grinning down at Nora and her daughter.
“You’re being mean, Lucas Hamilton!” Nora accused. “To tease us with something that you can never deliver is pure torture!”
Luke lifted her arm, giving the signal to stop for a while. “Come on, let’s see how mean I am.” She shouldered a spade and took Nora’s arm, not wanting her to stumble on the swampy ground. Nora held out her other hand for Amy to take and they cautiously wandered through the small valley.
After a while, Luke stopped and began to dig with the spade, cutting away the swamp grass. Then she rammed the spade down a few times. Grinning, she lifted a small block of ice to the surface. “Voílà, Madame. Your ice, as promised.”
With an enthusiastic squeak, Amy grabbed a bit of ice and put it into her mouth.
“Don’t worry,” Luke said at Nora’s alarmed gaze. “The ice is pure, no alkali in it at all.”
Nora cautiously lifted a sliver of ice and touched it to her chapped lips. “Where is it coming from, right in the middle of this barren land during a very hot July?”
“The water from ponds and creeks freezes in the winter. The tapestry of marsh grasses and sedges acts as an insulating layer and keeps the ice frozen until summer,” Luke explained. She found that she liked pampering Nora and Amy a bit, even if it was just with a glass of ice-cold lemonade.
While Nora and Bernice prepared the promised lemonade, Luke and the men dug up large chunks of ice, storing it in their water barrels so that they had cool water for the journey ahead.
After half an hour of rest, they traveled on. Luke relinquished her place next to the ox team to Nora and rode ahead to scout for a spot where they could camp for the night. She continued west along the banks of the Sweetwater, sometimes dozing in the saddle under the blazing sun.
Suddenly, the surface gave way beneath them. Measles snorted in terror as she sank belly-deep into the sand. Luke lost her grip on the reins as her world suddenly tilted and she was catapulted over the mare’s head. She tried to twist in mid-air to cushion the fall, but the ground was already too close.
The air was knocked from her lungs. An edgy rock ripped along her forearm as she skidded across the ground. Then, finally, she lay still. Cautiously, she moved an arm, then a leg. Everything seemed to be in working order.
Groaning, Luke stood and beat the dust out of her clothing. When she turned to look for Measles, her heart began to race. The horse was thrashing helplessly, fighting in vain against the quicksand that was sucking her in. She was already submerged to the belly, and her struggles only caused her to sink in deeper.
Luke rushed towards her, taking care not to get mired down herself. She grabbed the reins, then as she noticed how useless it would be to pull on the reins, she tried to help the mare by pushing from behind.
Still, the mare was stuck. The sand climbed even higher on her flanks.
Luke raced around and pulled on her neck instead, but that was equally useless.
Then, suddenly, her fellow travelers were there. Jacob Garfield threw a rope around the mare’s neck and began to pull with his sons, while Tom Buchanan, Brody and even Bill Larson pushed from behind.
Nora hurried forward to join their efforts.
“No!” Luke took one hand from the saddle-horn to hold her back. “Not you. Stay back. I’ve got enough help now.” She wouldn’t take the risk of causing a miscarriage, even if it might mean losing Measles.
Nora blinked. For a second, Luke could make out the hurt expression on her face, before she hid it away behind the mask she had acquired while working in a brothel. She regretted her sharp tone, but had no time to reassure Nora. Digging in her heels, she pulled with all her might.
From somewhere, a second rope was fastened to the saddle-horn and with their combined efforts, the terrified mare was pulled from the treacherous ground, inch by inch. Finally, she stood by the water’s edge, her flanks heaving and her long limbs trembling.
Luke felt herself trembling, too. Measles was a key element to her plans of building a horse ranch, but she meant more than that to her. The mare had been her companion for many years, faithfully carrying her through long expeditions and a dozen battles. Now she had come close to losing that trusted friend. Much too close.
Had she been alone, like she had often been during expeditions, the mare would have been dead by now. Only the unselfish help from the other emigrants had saved her. Maybe being part of a community, building friendships, is not so bad.
On wobbly legs, she walked over to Nora, who held a crying Amy in her arms. “I’m sorry,” she told her immediately. “I didn’t want to yell at you, but I don’t want anything to happen to you or the baby. I didn’t want to save Measles at the cost of losing you.”
Nora stood frozen for a few seconds. She stared at Luke over Amy’s head. “I…I didn’t think. I just saw Measles and—”
It was clear to Luke that Nora was not used to hearing apologies. In the past, people had hurt her feelings without even noticing or caring. “It’s all right. No one got hurt; not you and not Measles. That’s all that counts.”
Nora let out a trembling breath. Without answering, she carried Amy over to lavish kisses on Measles.
* * *
“Where’s Amy?” Bernice greeted her as she wandered over with her youngest daughter.
Nora pointed to the horizon. “Off with Luke and Measles.”
“That girl sure loves her Papa,” Bernice said with an affectionate smile.
Nora sighed. “Yeah, she does.” She stared off into the distance where snow-covered peaks were looming, their white-and-brown flanks looking like chocolate cakes dusted with powdered sugar.
“So tell me, what do you think about Sarah?”
Sarah? She had missed whatever Bernice might have said before that. “Which Sarah?” There were three women with that name in the wagon train.
Bernice rolled her eyes, but kept smiling. “I’m talking about names in general…for your baby, you know? Didn’t you already think of some names?”
Actually, Nora hadn’t. The birth wasn’t that far off, but still, she was just getting used to the thought that she would soon have another child. Only since Luke had promised to treat the baby as his own had she started to look forward to having another baby. “I’m not really sure yet,” she answered vaguely.
“Any nice names in Luke’s part of the family tree?” Bernice asked.
Nora swallowed. Like so many things about her husband, this was something she didn’t know. “I’ll have to ask him if he has any favorites.” Searching for a way to distract Bernice, she pointed to two twin hills ahead of them. “Is this South Pass?”
“I don’t think so. I would imagine a pass over the Rocky Mountains to be a bit steeper, narrower.”
“Then your imagination is much too vivid, dear Mrs. Garfield,” a male voice said from behind them.
Nora didn’t have to look. Brody Cowen had sneaked around her wagon since Luke had ridden off with Amy.
“South Pass is not the steep, narrow passage that you’ve envisioned. There are no sharply rising mountains on either side; it’s just a broad valley that looks more like a meadow than a mountain pass,” Brody explained. He pointed at the wind-swept, sage-covered slope ahead of them, but his gaze remained fixed on Nora. “If you ride ahead, you can be the first to reach the other side of the Rockies and to enter Oregon Territory.”
“Please, Mama!” Bernice’s daughter tugged on her hand. “Let’s go! I want to be the first on the other side!”
With a sigh and a shrug to Nora, Bernice let herself be dragged to her wagon, where a saddle horse was trailing behind.
Nora shivered, but it had nothing to do with the cooler air on the pass. She watched in dreadful silence as the Garfields rode off.
“Alone at last.” Cowen grinned crookedly at her, his steel-gray eyes devoid of any humor or kindness.
“Leave me alone,” Nora said. To her surprise, she found that her voice was barely more than a shaky whisper.
Cowen reached for her. “Where would be the fun in that? But don’t worry, I’ll even pay and leave you a nice tip. It won’t be your loss.”
Nora didn’t want his money. She wanted nothing from him, but she couldn’t find her voice to tell him that. For too long, she hadn’t been allowed to say “no” or to voice her wishes at all. “Mr. Cowen…”
“You can call me Brody,” he told her patronizingly.
“No, I…”
“You think you’re too good for me now, huh?” He reached for her, shackling her hands with his broader paws. With a rough jerk, he pulled her against his body. “Let’s see if you still think so when I’m through with you. It’ll be good, you just wait and see.”
Nora struggled, but she was as powerless against his strong grip as Measles had been against the suction of the quicksand.
“Brody? Nora?” Luke’s confused voice interrupted Cowen’s plans. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Cowen answered smoothly, letting go of Nora. “Just talking, right?” He laid a friendly arm around Nora’s shoulders, but she recoiled, flinching back from his touch.
She could see Luke’s gaze dart back and forth between her and Cowen. “Nora?” he asked.
For the first time, someone was asking her, believing her word about what had happened above that of a man. Tell him! a voice in her head urged, but another one cautioned, Cowen will only take revenge if you do. He’ll claim to be innocent, and if Luke believes the man he admires…where does that leave you?
“Nora?” Luke asked again. “Tell me what’s going on, please.”
Nora stepped away from Cowen, searching out Luke’s comforting presence. Her fear eased a bit as she looked into the familiar gray eyes of the man she had married. Then her gaze fell onto Amy, who was sitting in the saddle in front of Luke. Her entire front was covered in vomit. “Amy! Sweetie, what happened?” Nora forgot about her own situation as she rushed forward and pulled her groggy daughter into her arms.
“She vomited,” Luke explained the obvious. “We weren’t going all that fast, really. It must have been something she ate.”
She carried Amy to the wagon, feeling Luke follow behind her.
Brody Cowen hurried away as she began to tend to her daughter.
“Nora?” Luke peeked over her shoulder at the now blanket-covered girl.
“It’s not your fault,” Nora consoled him. “It has happened before. Sometimes, children just get sick to their stomach. Nothing a little rest won’t cure.”
“Nora?” Luke’s voice came again.
With a sigh, Nora turned. She stared at the collar of his shirt, not wanting to look him in the eye.
“Nora, look at me. Please.”
She lifted her head. The gray eyes weren’t judging, just waiting.
“What happened with Brody?”
Nothing that hasn’t happened a hundred times before. And I’m sure it’ll happen again, wherever I go. Nora hesitated. A part of her wanted to tell Luke the truth, to finally break her silence. But in the past, complaining and voicing the injustices she had suffered had never helped her. Suffering in silence had become her philosophy.
Luke stepped closer. He touched a single finger to her chin, keeping her gaze level with his. “Are you afraid of him?”
Sometimes, Luke was much too perceptive. “He…he touched me. He tried to fondle me and kiss me.”
Under his tan, Luke paled visibly.
Nora clenched her teeth, afraid that he wouldn’t believe that his friend had tried to molest her. For some reason, he seemed to have a blind spot for that man’s character flaws.
“Why didn’t you fight him off? Or at least call for help?” Luke asked.
Nora shrugged helplessly. At least, he believed her, but she didn’t know how to explain.
“Why did you just stand there, letting him touch you?” Anger was creeping into Luke’s voice.
“I…I don’t know. I didn’t know what to do,” Nora stammered.
Luke closed his eyes. He took a deep breath. When he reopened his eyes, they were calm again. “It’s not your fault. I know that you weren’t allowed to fight back in the past. Enduring and suffering in silence has been your method of survival for too long. But this part of your life is over now. You’re allowed to fight back if someone touches you without permission.”
Allowed to fight back… These words were pure theory for Nora, even if she was glad to hear them from Luke. Fighting against a tall, strong man like Brody Cowen was not something she could see herself doing. “I don’t know how to fight back,” she admitted, looking away from him in embarrassment.
“Then you come to me and tell me. I’ll try to protect you, whatever happens,” Luke promised. Gray eyes gazed at her in earnest.
“But you can’t always be around. He’s clever. He waits until you’re gone before he goes anywhere near me.”
Luke’s expression darkened. “He’s done this before?”
Nora hung her head.
Luke took it for the affirmation that it was. “You could have told me, you know,” he grumbled.
Nora nodded weakly. “Yeah, I know.”
“Then why didn’t you?”
“I…I wasn’t sure if you’d believe me over Brody Cowen.” She saw him open his mouth to protest and quickly added, “And I didn’t want to put you in an awkward situation.”
“The situation seems quite straightforward to me. You’re my wife and—”
“And he’s like a father figure to you. At least you’d like him to be,” Nora said. She had watched Luke’s behavior towards Brody Cowen, had seen him act with natural respect towards the older man. He tended to defer to Cowen’s opinion and didn’t question his advice, seeming only to expect good things from him. It was clear to Nora that he must have had a happier childhood with a better father than she had. Her own father had never paid her much attention; the only things that were important to him were his business and his three sons. When his ambitious plans to marry her off to his business partner failed, he no longer had any use for her and left her to tend for herself.
Luke gazed down at the fading bruises on Nora’s wrist. “Not if he molests my wife.”
Nora had to swallow as she looked into his eyes. Even though he had repeatedly told her that he wanted her to find a “better man” in Oregon, there was something possessive in his gaze. “What if he refuses to stop?”
For a few moments, there was only silence from Luke.
Nora knew that he had always tried to lead a quiet life. Since leaving Independence, almost every man on the train had gotten into at least one fistfight and a dozen shouting matches. Not Luke. No matter how much others provoked him and tried to get him involved in a confrontation, he quietly walked away. He wasn’t a coward, but still, Nora wasn’t sure if he would get into a fight with Brody for her. She wasn’t sure if she wanted him to.
“Well, I could teach you to defend yourself,” Luke finally offered.
Little old me, learning how to fight? Nora had her doubts, but on the other hand, learning how to defend herself and Amy could only be of value, no matter where and with whom she ended up in life. “You would do that?”
Luke nodded.
Another thing he’s doing for me… “I could teach you how to read and write in return,” she offered hesitantly. He had repeatedly rejected other “services” from her, but this was something she could do for him.
He shrugged. “We’ll see. Your lessons are more urgent. So, tonight, after Amy is asleep?”
“All right.” It was the oddest rendezvous she had ever made.
* * *
Luke leaned against the wagon and breathed into her hands to warm them. This afternoon, they had crossed the backbone of the Rocky Mountains; the ascent and descent through South Pass so gradual that they hadn’t really believed that they had crossed the Continental Divide until they had reached Pacific Spring, a green oasis in the harsh eastern region of the Oregon country.
The animals were grazing contently, and the other emigrants were busy celebrating that they had reached the border of Oregon Territory. No one would miss them, and Bernice Garfield had promised to look in on Amy while they were out on their “romantic stroll” along the creek.
She leaned against the wagon and listened to the story that Nora read Amy inside the wagon. Listening to Nora’s stories had been one of the guilty pleasures that she allowed herself every evening. Her own mother had never told her any of these fairy tales, adventures and legends.
Finally, Nora came to the “happily ever after” part of the story and kissed her daughter good-night. A few seconds later, she slipped from the wagon. She froze when she saw Luke’s form in the darkness.
“It’s only me,” Luke quickly announced herself.
Nora visibly relaxed and strolled over as if she hadn’t been afraid at all.
Luke knew better. She promised herself that this would change. Nora shouldn’t have to live in fear any longer.
Silently, they left the circle of wagons and wandered up the creek until they were far enough away from camp not to be seen or heard.
Luke stopped and began to roll up her sleeves.
“I’m not sure if this is a good idea,” Nora said.
Luke looked up from her cuffs, meeting Nora’s gaze in a silent question.
“I mean…I can’t win against Cowen. He’s much taller and stronger than I…”
“You don’t have to win,” Luke assured her. “All you have to do is fight him off long enough to call for help or run away. Do you think you can do that?”
Nora straightened her shoulders. “Show me how.”
“All right. I’m playing Brody, and you…you’re yourself. So, what does he usually do?”
“He…He grabs me.”
A vivid picture flashed before Luke’s mind’s eye. She felt anger boil up in her, coloring her cheeks. She took a deep breath. “How?”
“He grabs my wrists.” Nora demonstrated, closing her fingers around her other arm.
Luke took hold of Nora’s wrists. “Like this?”
“No, he…he holds my wrists with just one of his hands, leaving his other hand free to… And he holds on more roughly,” Nora explained.
With a nod, Luke laid both of Nora’s wrists against each other and encircled them with her left hand. It was hard to get a secure grip like this, not only because her hands her not as big as Brody’s, but mainly because she didn’t want to hurt Nora in the process. “And then? What does he do now?”
“He pulls me against his body, as close as possible, so that I can feel...him press against me, his breath on my face…” Nora shuddered.
Luke looked down at her in concern. “We don’t have to do this.”
“Yes. Yes, I have to. I want to learn how to stop him.”
Luke gazed into the determined green eyes. She had never thought that she would one day admire a former prostitute, but Nora’s courage had earned her respect. “All right.” Now it was her turn to hesitate. Slowly, she pulled Nora closer.
“Closer,” Nora whispered. “He holds me so close that I can’t move.”
She moved Nora another inch closer. Then another. She could feel Nora’s belly press against her hip now, felt the warmth of her skin against her own, her breath on her neck. She forced her thoughts back to what they were doing. “What are you doing when he holds you like this?”
“I try to break free, but it only makes him hold on tighter.” Nora demonstrated her struggles, pressing their bodies even closer together.
Good God. Luke’s eyes threatened to close. “And then?” Her voice was rough.
“Then he usually tries to kiss me.” Nora stopped her struggles and looked up at her.
Reenacting this was not a good idea, Luke thought but couldn’t look away from Nora’s lips. Her free hand lifted without conscious thought, touching a smooth cheek.
Nora didn’t pull back. She held her place, still gazing up at her.
Their lips touched, and Luke lost her grip on Nora’s wrists and on reality. Heat rushed through her. She felt Nora’s fingers slide up her neck and into her hair, holding her in place and deepening the kiss.
Nora’s tongue teased her bottom lip, asking for entrance that Luke gave without thinking.
She wasn’t sure if it was the lack of air, but suddenly, she felt faint. With a gasp, she tore her lips away from Nora’s. “I’m sorry. This is not what I wanted to show you,” she panted.
“Well, it was a lot nicer than being manhandled,” Nora said with the teasing smile that was second nature to every prostitute, but in her eyes, Luke could see the same confusion that she felt. When Luke didn’t return the smile, her expression grew serious again. “We don’t have to do this,” she used the same words that Luke had used before.
“You have to learn how to defend yourself,” Luke reminded. “All right, once again.” With more control this time, she held Nora’s wrists and pulled her against her body. She took a deep breath, forcing herself not to react to Nora’s closeness. “When he holds you like this and tries to kiss you, the best thing to do is bite him. Then you stamp down on his foot as hard as you can, and when he loosens his grip on you…I don’t think I need to tell you where to kick a man, do I?” She glanced down at Nora with a grim smile.
Nora’s lips were a thin line. “What if I freeze in panic and…just can’t do it?”
“That’s why we’re here. You have to practice. So, let’s try it with me.”
Nora stared up at her. “You want me to…kick you?” Her gaze wandered down Luke’s body.
Luke swallowed and grinned nervously. She fought against the sudden urge to clasp her hands in front of a certain body-part that she didn’t really have. She knew that a kick between the legs wasn’t a pleasant experience, even for a woman. “Maybe you could be so kind and leave out that last part of the maneuver,” she suggested. “Try the moves, but don’t hit me full force. And please skip the lip biting, too.”
“All right.” Nora took a deep breath. She looked down, aiming at Luke’s foot.
“Don’t look down,” Luke said. “You have to surprise him and gazing down could alert him to your plans.”
Nora bit her lip in concentration. She was so obviously trying not to look down that it was suspicious on its own.
Luke said nothing. She didn’t want to discourage the younger woman. She grimaced when the sole of Nora’s boot scraped along her shin and then almost crushed her little toe. “That’s great,” she gasped. “You’re doing fine. Now hint at that kick. Don’t hesitate; you have to kick him as soon as he’s distracted by the pain in his foot.”
Trying to kick out with her foot, Nora stumbled.
Quickly, Luke caught her and held on until she had found her balance again. “Don’t try to kick out with your foot. It’ll only make you stumble over your skirts, especially now that your center of balance is shifting.” She pointed to Nora’s growing belly. “Try to thrust with your knee.”
Again, they took their positions, with Luke holding Nora close. Nora’s boot scraped over her shin again, and she mentally prepared herself for a day of limping along the wagon tomorrow. Then Nora’s foot stepped on her own and her knee pressed against her in a much softer imitation of a kick.
Luke groaned – not in pain, but in pleasure. She tried to move back, away from the intimate contact, but Nora’s foot on her own held her pinned to the place. “That’s enough! You can stop now!” She took several deep breaths when Nora finally moved away.
“Was that good enough?”
You have no idea! “Yeah. If you use these moves with enough force, Brody will be in enough pain for you to make an escape. But just to be sure…” She drew her revolver from its holster. It wasn’t the heavy Walker Colt, but a smaller, lighter model.
Nora’s eyes widened. “You want me to shoot him?”
“No. I want you to do whatever it takes to defend yourself. You’ve got a right to decide by whom you want to be kissed and by whom not.”
Nora gazed at her lips, making Luke uncomfortable, but then she hesitantly took the small revolver.
Luke stepped behind her and reached around her with both arms so that she could show her how to hold the weapon. She paused for a moment when she noticed how intimate their position was, almost an embrace. “To load it, you swing out the cylinder. You put paper cartridges into each chamber, then place percussion caps on the nipples at the rear of each chamber.”
“What are they for?” Nora asked as she tried to imitate Luke’s movements.
“When you squeeze the trigger, the hammer snaps down and hits the cap. It explodes and the resulting spark ignites the powder in the paper cartridge and the bullet is discharged,” Luke explained. “Come on, try it. Pull back the hammer with your thumb.”
Nora did it.
Luke nodded. “Now, point the revolver at that big stone in the creek.”
Nora turned her head to look at her, her gaze full of doubt.
“Go on. It’s not loaded. We can’t take the risk of alerting Brody or worrying anyone within hearing distance.”
Finally, Nora lifted the weapon. She pointed it directly at the stone, without lifting it to eye level.
Luke smiled in grim satisfaction. “You’ve got a very good hand-eye-coordination.”
Nora looked down at her hand. “I do?”
“Yeah, like a first class gunslinger.”
“You’re making fun of me.” Nora pouted a bit.
Luke turned, so that she could see the serious expression in her eyes. “No. You could be very good with this weapon with just a little practice.”
“Really? You can tell just by me pointing an unloaded weapon at a stone?” Nora was still doubting her ability. Her confidence in her own skills was sometimes less than stellar. Too many years of only being appreciated for her skills in the bedroom, Luke suspected.
“I’ve taught enough recruits to be able to judge this with a single glance. A few more ‘romantic strolls’ outside of hearing distance, and you won’t have to fear anyone ever again,” Luke promised. She knew that this would be the biggest gift that she could give Nora. A part of her was almost sorry, because deep down, she wanted to be the one to protect Nora. She reached out her hand to take back the weapon for today.
But instead of handing her the revolver, Nora slid her own hand into Luke’s. “Thank you.”
Luke swallowed. “You’re welcome.”
* * *
Return to the Academy