Chapter Fifteen #2
“No,” Anna said. “No one ever does.”
A few women murmured their agreement.
The men shifted where they stood. Clay saw a change pass through them, not all at once, but enough. Ben Harlow, who had complained about sharing flour the day before, moved to stand nearer Samuel. The Prices stood by their little covered cart,
Everett watched the camp slipping from him.
“This is foolishness,” he said. “You’ll see that soon enough. Sentiment doesn’t get a wagon over the mountains.”
“No,” Samuel said. “But a man does not get over them alone.”
Everett turned to him. “You were saying we had to move.”
“We do.”
“Then move.”
Samuel faced Clay. “We can make a plan. We take the sound wagons ahead a short way. Find a place with grass and water. Half the men stay. Half go forward and hunt. No one gets left alone.”
Clay held his gaze. Samuel had not betrayed him. Not exactly. But he had let Everett’s words settle before speaking, and Clay had felt the cut of that.
“You think Noah can travel?” Clay asked.
“No,” Samuel said.
“Then I’m not moving him.”
Everett barked a laugh. “There it is.”
Clay looked at the people who had chosen to stand close. At Sarah, still holding his hand. At Tucker, who tried to look older than nine and failed. At Rufus, whose blank eyes were turned toward the ground.
“We stay here until Noah can travel,” Clay said. “Anyone who wishes to go can go. I won’t stop you.”
Everett’s expression hardened.
“And when the food runs out?”
“Then we find more.”
“You got no plan.”
“I’ve got one.” Clay’s voice stayed low. “It just doesn’t include leaving a sick man in the mud.”
For a moment Everett did not move. Rainwater dripped from the brim of his hat.
Then he spat into the grass.
“Fine. Stay and play savior.” He pointed at Samuel. “You helped burn my wagon. You and him. Don’t think I’ve forgotten.”
Samuel’s eyes narrowed. “I pulled you out alive.”
“You pulled me out empty-handed.”
Everett turned from him and began calling names. Five men answered. Two women went with them, along with a pair of wagons and a thin string of animals. They gathered fast, avoiding the eyes of those who stayed.
He joined the closest wagon, shooing the driver from the seat. Before he took the reins, he looked at Sarah once. It was not a long look. It was enough.
Clay stepped a little in front of her.
Everett’s mouth twitched. Then he drove on.
The wheels tore deep tracks through the soaked ground. One by one, the others followed. No one spoke until the last wagon had gone over the rise and the sound of it faded into the wet distance.
Only then did Clay let out his breath.
Sarah’s fingers were still in his. He had forgotten them there.
Samuel came over and removed his hat. Rain had flattened his dark hair to his forehead.
“I should’ve said it sooner,” he told Clay.
Clay looked at the retreating road. “You should’ve.”
Samuel accepted that with a nod.
“We’ll hunt at noon,” he said. “There may be deer near the ridge.”
“Take Brady’s father’s old rifle from my wagon,” Clay said. “The one with the good stock.”
Samuel’s mouth drew tight. “All right.”
He walked away to make preparations.
Sarah remained beside Clay. At last she loosened her hand, though she did not step away.
“You did not have to say all that,” Clay said.
“I know.”
“You made it sound like I’m better than I am.”
She looked at him then. “I made it sound like the truth.”
Clay did not answer. There was mud on the knees of her skirt. Her braid had begun to come apart. He wanted to fix it, though he did not know how he would do such a thing without making a mess of it.
Instead, he brushed the loose curl from her cheek with the back of one finger.
Sarah held still.
From Noah’s wagon came a hard, tearing cough.
Clay’s hand dropped.
Inside, the air smelled of damp wool, sweat, and the sharp herbs Sarah had boiled into tea. Charlotte sat close to Noah’s side. She had not cried. Clay wished she would. Her dry eyes frightened him more than weeping could have.
Noah’s chest rose shallowly beneath the blankets.
Clay knelt beside him. “Mr. Granger.”
Noah’s eyelids lifted.
“Clay,” he whispered.
“I’m here.”
Noah’s gaze wandered toward the wagon opening, though he could not see much beyond it. “They gone?”
“Some of them.”
“You staying?”
“Yes, sir.”
A faint movement touched Noah’s mouth. It might have been a smile.
“Knew you would.”
Clay swallowed. “You ought to save your breath.”
“Spent most of it already.”
Charlotte took Noah’s hand between both of hers. “Don’t talk that way.”
Noah turned his head toward her voice. His fingers closed weakly around hers.
“You remember that house in Abilene?” he asked.
Charlotte’s mouth trembled. “The one with the chipped door?”
“Painted it myself.”
“It was green when you painted it.”
“Stripped enough after winter.”
She bent over him, pressing his knuckles to her lips.
Clay sat back on his heels. Sarah came in behind him and rested her hand between his shoulder blades.
Noah breathed in. The sound caught halfway.
“Charlotte,” he said.
“I’m here.”
“Don’t sell the mare cheap.”
Charlotte gave a broken little laugh. “I won’t.”
His eyes closed again.
For a while there was only the rain beginning once more on the canvas roof. Not hard rain. A thin, steady tapping.
Noah’s hand loosened in Charlotte’s.
She said his name.
Clay leaned forward, listening. He knew the moment before Charlotte did. Noah’s chest had gone still.
Charlotte called him again, louder this time.
Sarah moved past Clay and took Charlotte around the shoulders. Charlotte folded against her without a sound. Her body shook once, then again.
Clay stayed kneeling beside the bedroll.
Noah’s face had settled. The lines around his mouth were easier now. His hands, which had always looked too large for the careful way he handled things, lay open on the blanket.
Clay thought of the old man’s voice telling him how to set a wheel, how to choose a horse, how to keep a woman warm when there was only one blanket and no firewood left. Simple things. Useful things.
Outside, Tucker began to cry quietly. Brady put an arm around him.
Clay could not make himself stand.
Sarah’s hand found his shoulder again. This time he covered it with his own and held it there.