Page 17 of Conveniently Wed
Memories of the day before, the anxious train ride and then terrifying wreck—and her new husband—tightened Fran’s chest until she wanted to gasp for air. But she didn’t. She didn’t want to be discovered, not here in this uncomfortable wagon bed and not yet, after they’d taken so much trouble to sneak across the yard and into the conveyance in the first place, in the dark of night.
Emma moved beside her, softly rustling the old blanket Fran had draped over them to hide them if anyone should look in the back of the covered wagon before the journey was begun. Fran placed a gentle hand on the crown of her sister’s head, a sign of comfort they’d used at a small age in their parents’ home, and Emma stilled.
Metal jangled—possibly the horses’ harnesses?—and Fran braved a whisper, hoping the man was far enough away from the wagon that he wouldn’t hear. “Just go back to sleep.”
The entire wagon shifted and creaked under a heavy weight. He must be climbing onto the bench seat now. Fran was reminded how very large her husband was. What if he was angry when he discovered them? She didn’t really know him. Would he become violent?
The realization she might be putting Emma in danger again frightened her.
The thought that there would be other cowboys around was small comfort. She would simply have to find a way to prove her worth and hope he wouldn’t be extremely angry.
He clucked softly to the horses, and then it was too late to change her mind as the wagon jostled forward.
Emma’s breathing evened out as the wagon continuously bumped along. Fran’s mind raced ahead, leaving her unable to return to sleep. Was she doing the right thing?
She hadn’t imagined Underhill’s man on the train platform in Lincoln. And even though he hadn’t been on the train to Bear Creek, if he’d tracked them that far, he could track them the rest of the way. Which meant she and Emma might be only a day or two in front of Mr. Underhill. If this didn’t work, if they couldn’t get to Tuck’s Station with the driving cattle and find a way to hide, she would never forgive herself. She was tired of running, but if it came down to it, she would keep moving for Emma’s sake.
Soft light filtered through the canvas above them when the creaking wagon slowed and stopped.
Unusual noises of many feet and jostling people confounded Fran. It was barely light outside. Surely the entire town didn’t wake and gather this early, rustic as the place was. But what was going on? Then she realized it wasn’t people she was hearing at all. It must be the cattle. A loud lowing from nearby confirmed it.
The wagon shifted and then released like a spring. Edgar must’ve disembarked.
“You’re driving the wagon,” he said, not attempting to be quiet any longer. “The other boys ready to go?”
“Aw, why do I hafta drive first?” Fran thought she recognized the second speaker as Seb, though she hadn’t seen him since yesterday afternoon, after the rushed wedding.
“You wanna take a guess why?” There was the sound of flesh meeting flesh—a friendly punch on the arm, perhaps?—and an “oomph” of expelled air, as if the two grown men were wrestling. Surely that couldn’t be right. But then, her brother Daniel had been much older than she and Emma were, and they had never been close enough to tease.
“C’mon, we gotta get moving,” Edgar said. “Let me get my horse untied.”
With only her nose poking out of the thin blanket, Fran was still able to see his shadow as it loomed over the side of the wagon. She held her breath, praying he wasn’t going to open the back flap and discover them. Sounds of leather against wood echoed right near her ear.
Then came another male voice, one she didn’t recognize. “Excuse me.”
“Morning.” Whoever it was didn’t get the same effusive greeting Edgar had given his brother. Someone he didn’t know well?
The wagon shifted again, much less this time, as Seb must’ve gotten into the wagon seat.
“I’m looking for two young ladies that arrived on a train yesterday.”
Fran’s breath lodged uncomfortably in her throat. Could this be the same man from the Lincoln station two days before? Or someone else Mr. Underhill had hired to find them?
“Both small of stature, dark-haired.”
“No young ladies here,” said Edgar, his voice stiff.
Fran strained to hear over the pounding of her heart in her ears. Would he direct the man to his family’s ranch and give them up?
“They’re only a couple of runaways, see, and I’ve got to get word back home.”
This time the stranger got no response.
Leather creaked and a horse blew again. Edgar mounting up? Hooves thumped in the packed dirt and from behind her, Seb clucked to the horses and set the wagon in motion.
It seemed they were safe for now. But how long could it last?
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