Chapter 4 #2
Dianne stood beside him, looking from him to the direction he studied. “What are you looking for?”
“Nothing in particular.”
“Why can’t I see the way station?”
Her suspicion scraped along his skin. “What do you think I’m doing? Leading you into the woods to abandon you?”
She jerked back, grabbed Eddie’s hand, and retreated several yards.
Air blasted from Jace’s mouth. “I was joshing. Something Chet wouldn’t approve of.
The way station is over there. It will soon come into view.
” Taking Sam’s reins, he began the descent down the long hill.
She could follow or not as she wished. But he didn’t mount Sam and ride away even though he was tempted to do so.
He wouldn’t leave them until they reached the way station.
Then, they could wait for the next stagecoach.
“Mama!” Eddie’s frantic call jerked Jace’s attention toward them.
At what he saw, his heart slammed into his ribs hard enough to hurt. Dianne lay face down in the dirt with Eddie pounding on her back. Jace raced to them, though running uphill took longer than it should have.
He lifted Eddie to the side. “What happened?”
“Mama felled down.”
“You stand there while I help your mama.” He set Eddie behind him and squatted by Dianne.
“Are you hurt?” There was no sign of her breathing.
His mouth grew dry. Had her heart quit? Or—?
A knot closed off his throat. He shook his head to clear his thoughts.
Of course, she didn’t die of fever as his family had. She’d been perfectly fine minutes ago.
“I’m going to roll you over.” The words were a warning in case she could hear him. He touched her arm and withdrew. It was too bold. But she couldn’t stay face down in the dirt. Sucking in air and holding it, he eased her over to her back.
She blinked.
“Thank God you’re alive.”
Her eyes widened. Something was wrong.
“Are you breathing?”
She managed to turn her head back and forth enough to indicate no.
“You’ve had your breath knocked out. I’ll help you sit up.” He slipped his arm under her shoulders and, ignoring his discomfort at how he almost had to hug her, pulled her upright. Air shuddered in, and she gasped, pressing her hand to her rib cage.
“It will hurt for a moment or two.” He held her steady as her breathing normalized.
“I’m f-fine now. Thank-ks.” She shifted away from him.
“What happened?”
“I was hurrying too much, tripped, and fell hard.”
Eddie trotted to her side. “Mama?”
“I’m all right.”
“You falled down.”
“I did.”
Eddie studied her hard, then waved toward Sam. “I falled off Sam, but I never gots hurt. You should ride Sam.”
Straightening, Jace swiped the dirt from his trousers. “That’s not a bad idea.”
Her shiver informed him otherwise. She scrambled to her feet, brushed off her skirts, and marched forward. “I’ll take my chances on my own two feet.”
There was no trail here, just a wide field of grass, so the three of them walked side by side with Sam following Jace.
They crested a rise, and Jace pointed. “There’s the way station.
” It lay below them, the roof clearly visible with smoke drifting from the chimney.
Horses grazed in the pasture, resting up for their next turn pulling the stagecoach.
One of them raised its head, saw the humans and the horse, and whinnied.
“It’s quite a slope. Don’t fall,” Jace warned them.
Holding firmly to her son’s hand, Dianne began the descent, sidestepping in the steepest places.
Jace stayed close at hand, prepared to catch her if she tripped.
She caught at the bushes beside her, fighting against the pull of her son. “Eddie, go slow.”
Should he reach out and help her? He lifted a hand. Then, seeing that she had things under control, he lowered it again. He huffed out air when they reached level ground. “Made it.” The words weren’t meant for her to hear, but she nodded.
“I confess I’m glad to be on level ground.”
They paused to look around. The door to the station stood open, and they made their way that direction.
A clattering came from inside. Then a muffled sound like a curse.
He touched Dianne’s arm. “Let me go ahead.” He dropped Sam’s reins over the rail and stomped up the wooden steps, giving anyone inside fair warning of his approach.
The dim interior smelled like a saloon. For good reason, as the agent lay propped up in the corner, a dark-colored bottle in his hand.
He took a swig and squinted at Jace in the doorway.
“Wanna a drink,” he slurred.
“No thanks.” Jace strode back to Dianne. “He’s drunk.”
She shuddered.
“You can’t wait here for the stagecoach.”
Her eyes darkened, and she looked around as if hoping to find a place to shelter.
Jace scrubbed at his neck and adjusted his hat. He couldn’t leave her here. There was no food back at the cabin. There were lots of horses in the pen, but the teams weren’t meant for riding. Besides, the stage line owners wouldn’t look kindly on someone borrowing one of their fine animals.
“Let me look around. Wait here.” He left her standing in the yard as he passed the corrals and ventured around the barn.
An open lean-to was attached on one side.
Beneath the roof stood a wagon covered in a layer of dust as if unused for a spell.
He circled it, kicked the wheels, and checked the undercarriage.
It appeared sound enough, but a wagon without horses was of no use.
He wandered further. In the trees, he discovered a rail fence and, in the enclosure, two horses.
Not the fine animals the stagecoach demanded.
Their hooves were overgrown, but other than that, they appeared sound.
They lifted their heads at his approach but ignored him which gave him hope they were gentle.
Returning to the barn, he found the harnessing.
Good, he now had a plan. He’d borrow the wagon, take Dianne and her son to the next station, which was an overnight stop. He’d been there a time or two and knew the couple who ran it to be decent folk.
In short order, he brought in the horses, hitched them to the wagon, and drove it to the dwelling.
Dianne sat on a log bench and blinked at his approach. “You’re stealing?”
“Borrowing,” he corrected. “I’ll leave a note and bring the wagon back as soon as you’re at the next station.
Don’t figure the man in there has used it often.
” He helped her to the seat, scooped Eddie into the back, tied Sam to the side, and before he left, found paper and a stub of pencil and wrote a note.
He’d have the wagon and horses back tonight, likely before the man sobered up.
Climbing up beside the woman, he flicked the reins, and they proceeded down the trail.
“At least we’re going the right direction,” she observed, relief sighing from her.
“Did you think I’d take you elsewhere?” He didn’t even try to staunch the harsh note. “I just want to go back to my cabin.”
“It might be comfortable in many ways, but it seems a lonely place. And short of supplies.”
“I’ll go hunting. Meat is all I need.” He could live without coffee and biscuits.
“If you say so.”
“You obviously don’t agree.” He guided the team through a rough patch with a boulder pushed to one side. The wagon barely squeezed between the rock and the wall of dirt.
“I guess I don’t know why you’d want to live such a spartan life when you could enjoy a comfortable home with good meals waiting for you. I make the best bread. The aroma of it fresh from the oven. Um-hum.” Her sigh was one of pure bliss.
Despite his best intentions, saliva flooded his mouth, and he swallowed loudly.
She continued as if determined to weaken his resolve. “I have won ribbons at fairs with my pies. Apple pie, raisin pie—I make the best.”
He gave another loud swallow.
“You like meat. I can turn any sort into a delicious meal. Roast venison, beefsteak, stew that is so brown and rich it almost melts in your mouth. It’s best served over fluffy mashed potatoes.”
More loud swallowing.
“I favor cookies.” He squeezed out the words.
“Ah, cookies. My husband and my father always said I made the best. The aroma of them baking brought them home in a hurry. I don’t know what your favorite is, but my husband’s was molasses cookies. Father’s was snickerdoodles.” Her words grew ragged.
A glance in her direction showed her lips trembling.
What was he to say to comfort her? I’m sorry seemed inadequate. As he sought something else, she gasped.
What had she seen? He jerked his attention to the trail.