Chapter 22
Jem poked the fire with a stick, taking a look around camp. He was watching the fire near Phineas and Theda’s wagon. Theda said she was going to visit Della as soon as they’d stop to make camp for the night. He thought about taking her up on her invitation and joining her.
Maybe in a little bit.
Because of the way that they’d set up camp, Jem could see the Crenshaw wagon across the clearing. He thought of what Theda said earlier, that Ansel Crenshaw was acting strangely.
A movement off to the side pulled Jem’s attention to Tolliver.
He was sitting down a few wagons, against the supply wagon, where few people slept, his back against the wagon wheel and a tin cup resting in his hands. He had his eyes on the Crenshaw fire. He didn't seem to notice Jem watching him as he watched the Crenshaws.
Jem followed Tolliver’s line of sight.
Ansel sat with Verity, their shoulders almost touching, the children finishing the last of their supper on a blanket nearby. Nora was saying something to her brother with great seriousness. Edmund didn't appear convinced.
Tolliver watched all of it with his arms crossed and an expression Jem couldn't read from that distance. He stayed there long enough that Jem set down his cup. Then, without a word to anyone, Tolliver uncrossed his arms and walked away into the dark between the wagons.
There was normal interest, then there was Tolliver. Jem’s stomach turned uneasily.
Jem picked the cup back up. Took a slow drink. Watched the place where Tolliver had been sitting for a moment.
It wasn't the first time.
Three days ago, coming back from the horses later than he'd expected, Jem had passed the Fetterly wagon and found Tolliver there. Not talking to anyone. Just standing near the rear wheel with his hands in his coat pockets, watching the Crenshaw family eat.
He'd glanced over when Jem passed, tipped his head like a man with nothing to hide, and moved on.
Before that, Jem spotted him at the edge of a card game two wagons down. Four men playing, plenty of room at the fire if someone wanted to pull up a seat and join in. Tolliver hadn't joined in. He'd stood back and watched the men.
Jem's thumb moved along the rim of the cup.
None of it amounted to anything he could point to. Tolliver did his share of the work when work came up. He didn't push himself into conversations that weren't his, didn't ask for more than he was given, and had yet to say a word out of place to anyone that Jem had heard.
A man joining a wagon train late came in as a stranger. It made sense to pay attention, to take stock of the people around him before deciding how to move among them. Jem had done the same thing himself.
But Jem had been watching people to understand them.
He wasn't sure that was what Tolliver was doing.
His eyes drifted back toward the Crenshaw wagon. Ansel was on his feet now, gathering up the children's dishes while Verity wrapped the leftover bread. Something in the set of his shoulders looked tired. Caleb tugged at his sleeve and Ansel looked down, and for a moment his whole face changed.
Jem looked away.
He leaned forward and set his cup down in the grass beside his boot.
Tomorrow, he'd say something to Phineas. Across camp, one of the children burst out laughing at something. A few of the adults joined in, and the sound rolled through the dark and faded.
Jem leaned his head back against the wagon wheel.
Above him, the stars were thick and steady, the kind of sky that made the prairie feel smaller than it was. Somewhere off to his left, a fire crackled low. Everything was in place, so why did he feel so uneasy?
---*---
Jem glanced over his shoulder at the blazing campfire. He didn't want to leave the fire, or the friendly company, but he had to pass by and check on the mare before bed.
The weather had been good lately, and for the last three nights, several families had gotten together to share dinner, stories, and singing.
Tonight was no different. Laughter carried across the camp behind him as he walked, and somewhere near the back of the circle, Phineas had his fiddle out again.
The mare had favored her left foreleg coming in that afternoon, just a slight unevenness in her gait. He wanted to look her over before morning.
Two days ago, he'd gone to Phineas with his concerns about Tolliver. Phineas hadn't seemed surprised. In fact, he'd agreed that after hearing from several people, Tolliver's behavior seemed odd. But he didn't have enough evidence of wrongdoing to confront the man.
Jem didn't like it, but he understood it. He was halfway to the animal enclosure when he heard it.
A soft scrape. He stopped. It was coming from the Crenshaw wagon.
He’d just seen the family back at the campfire.
He turned his head and listened. The wagons at in the dark, a distance off the main line, the canvas lowered for the night.
But the noises were coming from inside. Jem frowned and changed direction.
Had an animal wandered inside?
He came around the back of the wagon quietly and lifted the canvas.
Tolliver was crouched over an open trunk, both hands inside it. It took Jem a moment to realize what was happening, shock rushed through him.
Neither man moved.
Then Tolliver straightened, a knife in his hand, drawn so naturally that Jem hadn't seen him reach for it. His face was composed, no sign of surprise on his features
“Now,” Tolliver said, his voice almost conversational, “let's not make this into something it doesn't have to be.”
“What are you doing?” Jem demanded.
“What you should be.” Tolliver shrugged.
Jem didn’t allow himself to think about what Tolliver said. Instead, he lunged.
He caught Tolliver's wrist and shoved hard, forcing the knife wide. They slammed into the side of the wagon and the whole frame shuddered. Elbows caught wood. Boots slipped on the floorboards. Jem landed a solid punch that snapped Tolliver's head back.
Then Tolliver drove his elbow directly into Jem's ribs.
The air left him all at once. His grip loosened just long enough for Tolliver to find an opening. Tolliver twisted hard, and then Jem was on his back with Tolliver's knee on his chest and the knife at his throat.
Both of them were breathing hard.
Tolliver looked down at him with an expression that was almost entertained.
“What are you doing, Josiah?”
Jem kept his eyes on the knife.
“You don't even—” Tolliver stopped.
He went still. His head tilted slightly, and something shifted behind his eyes. Genuine this time.
“Do you not remember me?”
“I've never seen you before in my life, before you joined this wagon train” Jem forced out, despite the pain in his chest. “Get off me.”
Tolliver didn't move. He studied Jem's face. Then he laughed. “Ransom is going to love this.”
The name hit somewhere deep in Jem's chest.
Ransom. It felt familiar. Why did he feel like he should know the name?
“Who's Ransom?”
Tolliver sat back slightly, though the knife stayed where it was.
“I was sent to find out what happened to you. Ransom was worried when you didn’t report back.
Imagine my surprise when I saw you’d joined the wagon train as a wounded traveler.
A clever way to keep an eye on it and look for the diamonds.
” Tolliver shook his head. “Is anything coming back? That injury you gave yourself must have been worse than you intended.”
“I--”
“Josiah.” Tolliver said the name with authority, as if it would command him somehow.
Jem opened his mouth again, to deny it all, to tell Tolliver he’d lost his mind.
A white flash split through Jem’s head, behind his eyes, sharp enough to seize his whole body against it. The wagon disappeared.
A face. Dark hair, younger than Tolliver, with something still about him. Then the two of them together somewhere that smelled of woodsmoke. And underneath the images, a feeling so cold and certain it knocked the breath from him.
“Diamonds, find a safe way to get them, and the plan’s all yours. You know what happens otherwise. I’m getting them one way or another, you're choice.” That voice, the same one from his dream. Diamonds, the same ones Tolliver was looking for.
The wagon boards were solid beneath his back. The knife was gone.
Tolliver was gone, slipping out the back of the wagon, glancing over his shoulder.
“I’ll be back, Josiah, try to remember who you really are in the meantime.” Tolliver yelled over his shoulder, the look on his face amusement, instead of anger.
Jem’s stomach clenched. Tolliver was a cruel man.
How do I know that Tolliver was cruel?
Jem pressed a hand hard against the side of his head and lay still for a moment.
Tolliver had to be lying. Whoever Josiah was, it couldn't be him. He couldn't have joined the wagon train on purpose, to… he didn't know what, steal from them?
He would figure that out later. He may not know who he was, but he knew he wanted to protect Theda and Phineas, and the others. That meant he had to get help.
He pushed himself upright, one hand braced against the side of the wagon as the pounding in his head slowly eased.
Then he shouted at the top of his lungs.
Phineas arrived at a run, two men close behind him.
Jem met him between the wagons.
“What’s going on?” Phineas asked. Ansel Crenshaw was right behind him.
“Why did you just come out of my wagon?” Ansel’s eyes were full of anger, and…fear. He kept going past Jem without waiting for an answer then disappeared into his wagon.
Jem turned his gaze to Phineas, and Theda who ran up behind him. Her eyes went wide with worry as soon as she saw him.
“Tolliver was inside the Crenshaw wagon.” Jem pressed a hand against his ribs, still breathing carefully. “He had a knife. We fought. He got away.”
Phineas looked him over quickly, then turned and sent the two men out to search the camp perimeter without having to be asked.
“What was he after?” Phineas lowered his voice, and Theda hurried forward.
“Are you hurt?” she asked, reaching out to touch his arm.
“No. Not really. Just…my head hurts.” Jem shook his head, then refocused on Phineas' question.
“Tolliver was after the Crenshaws.” Jem paused. “He said something about diamonds.”
“He thought Ansel had diamonds?” Phineas asked, his eyes widening.
“It seemed that way.” Jem drew in another breath, trying to calm the pain that still lingered.
Phineas let out a slow breath and looked toward the Crenshaw wagon.
“Then we'd better go find Ansel at the campfire, and talk to him. Maybe then, we’ll get to the bottom of this.”