Page 20 of Conveniently Wed
Surely now the man beside her would have mercy and stop this torture.
The wagon topped a rise, and she saw the cattle spread out in a loose knot before them, dust flying. She’d never thought one could choke on dust, but she’d been proven wrong. She felt as if she’d swallowed several mouthfuls of it over the course of the day.
Edgar rode point, all the way out front, tall in the saddle of his big black horse. The other cowboys kept strategic places around the herd. Ricky, beside her on the wagon seat, had explained the placement when her curiosity had prompted her to ask.
Swing riders were about a third of the way back, flank riders two-thirds back, and tail riders, at the very rear of the herd. Ricky hadn’t explained what the young Seb had done to deserve eating trail dust all day long, but it was obvious that riding behind the herd wasn’t a coveted position.
Driving the chuck wagon wasn’t much better.
“Shouldn’t we be stopping soon?”
She’d vowed not to ask, but the screaming pain from her shoulders and arms wouldn’t let her keep silent any longer.
Ricky chuckled and took the reins from her.
A half gasp, half sigh escaped as the tension from driving the two massive animals harnessed in front of her was suddenly gone.
“Ooh…” she moaned, reaching up to rub her left shoulder, which felt a little worse than the other.
“I was waiting on you to say something,” the man beside her said. “You lasted a lot longer than I thought you would.”
Because she hadn’t wanted to give Edgar the satisfaction of knowing he’d assigned her a task she couldn’t do.
She glanced behind them to check on Emma, who’d walked beside the wagon for a long time that afternoon, watching after the little white dog. Ricky had told them it belonged to his sister Breanna.
Several times during the day, Emma had listened in on Fran and Ricky’s conversations, although she hadn’t spoken again after her question to Edgar. She had dropped off to sleep inside the conveyance not long ago. Now she slept on, something she hadn’t been able to do on the train out of Memphis. What was it about being out on this open plain that calmed Emma?
Fran hoped she’d done the right thing by not telling Emma her suspicions that they were being followed. Her sister’s peace was so fragile. Fran would do anything to keep away the plaguing fear and desperation.
“Ed’s calling a halt.” Ricky pointed to where Edgar appeared to be talking with one of the other cowboys, then the taller, broader man rode back to speak to each of them in turn.
“Let’s drive a little farther and see if we can’t find a place near that stream to camp for the night.”
“What stream?” She strained her eyes but didn’t see anything resembling the sparkle of water, only an endless prairie and a snaking line of trees.
“It’s beneath the trees—it’s what’s sustaining them.”
“Ah.”
By the time they’d found a campsite Ricky deemed good enough—somewhat close to the stream she still couldn’t see and somewhat flat—Fran was drooping with exhaustion. Even though she’d ridden on the bench seat most of the day, the strain of guiding the two horses in their traces had taken a toll.
It was a relief to stand on firm ground and stretch her back. She hadn’t realized her legs would be sore from bracing against the front of the wagon. She twisted from side to side, loosening muscles that had stiffened with the same activity all day.
“Ed will leave a couple of fellas with the cattle, but the rest of them will be along soon for supper. You want some help?” Ricky asked.
Edgar hadn’t specifically told her to cook the evening meal. He hadn’t specifically told her not to, either.
During her only break from driving the team, she’d catalogued everything in the wagon, from the cast iron frying pan to the large ham hanging from the cross poles to the covered jugs of flour and salt.
She had an idea of what she thought she could cook without botching it too badly. But she was at a loss for how to begin.
“How do I…we’ll need a fire, won’t we?”
The charming cowboy grinned at her. “Seems like you’re starting to think like a rancher’s wife, after all.”
Fran preened a little with the praise and leaned as far as she could into the wagon to wake her sister.
“Emma. I’ll need you to start peeling potatoes. We’ve got a lot to do.”
