Jodi's Journey (10 page)

Jodi walked off, acting as though Matt needed
her.

Hunt pushed his hat back and watched her. For
some reason, Jodi Parker was looking better every day, and he might
just have been in the saddle too long.

CHAPTER TEN

“We're going to have to swim them across. I
was hoping the water would go down, but it doesn't look like it
will. The current and the wind aren't working in our favor either.
We'll string them out. We'll make a raft for the wagon. We'll take
it slow and easy. Got to find out if everyone can swim.”

Hunt called the men in camp together. “Boys,
we got to swim them across. We've waited long enough. Is there
anyone here who can't swim?”

Jose raised his hand, his brows knitting with
concern. “I no swim, Señor Boss.”

“Okay, you'll go along on the wagon. Now
let's get some timber for logs and make a raft to get the wagon
across, then we'll head the cattle in. But I want the lead cattle
to follow the oxen in. We won't go across till noon. Cattle don't
take to the sun in their eyes, so we'll oblige them this. Ox, on
the other hand, have no trouble with water. They'll be the lead
till we get across. Strip down to your drawers when we go. If you
got a slicker and can manage in the water with it, fine. If not,
don't worry about modesty. We'll send Jose and Jodi over
first.”

The men nodded and went to working on the
raft. They used willow for logs and strung them with odd and end
pieces of rawhide. With little tools, and not much lumber to be
had, the makeshift raft was crude, but it would hold long enough to
get the wagon across.

The next day Hunt scouted the best place to
cross. It wasn't an easy task. The water was still dangerously
high, and the current was strong too. The oxen led the way, totally
unaffected by the water. The water was so salty the cattle didn't
drink. The rest of the lead cattle followed, and before they knew
it, it was one long line of cattle going across. It took two solid
days to get all the cattle across, having to jerk a few cow tails
in the process, and Josh nearly lost his horse once.

Jose and Jodi helped on the other side,
making sure the cattle knew they were being coddled into a
bunch.

Matt came across the river last with Hunt; he
swam well, and several times helped dig out the cattle from
quicksand. It took awhile to get them out and was bone breaking
work, but they accomplished it.

The men jumped back in the river to clean
themselves. They whooped and hollered for nearly an hour before any
of them came up the other side of the embankment. It was a
refresher that they all seemed to need since they had been rained
on almost since they’d left San Antonio.

“Mind if I stop to clean myself?” Jodi asked
Hunt after all the men had returned to the other side.

“Go ahead,” he agreed, giving her a long
look.

“Wouldn't hurt you any to clean up a bit,”
she said over her shoulder in a soft murmur.

“Is that an invitation?” he asked huskily,
cutting her a flirty smile.

“I didn't mean with me…” She huffed and ran
down to the river bed so he wouldn’t see her blush.

He laughed till she was out of sight, then he
realized how enticing that thought was. Jodi had definitely worked
her way at getting under his skin, but he knew how to squash such
urges, and a cool dip in the water would do him more good than she
knew.

The rain had cooled the air and the water
felt invigorating to Jodi as she dove in. She'd kept her drawers
on, too, and still managed to soap away the scum of the trail. Lye
soap never smelled so good. She sighed. She washed her hair, too,
and when she came out, she felt refreshed.

She was so refreshed she didn't notice Hunt
standing at the edge of the bank with a blanket to cover her with.
The intimacy of his spreading the blanket over her made her shiver
with something more than cold. His hands seemed to linger against
her for a moment. It wasn't the temperature of the water that gave
her goose bumps. It was Hunt. It felt like a current running up and
down her back as he touched her lightly. He held the blanket to
her, lifting her hair out and sighing a little too heavily. He
smiled down at her. “Dry off good, and don't get a chill.” Hunt
offered a satisfied smile.

“Thanks,” she barely murmured, afraid he
might read her thoughts if she looked at him too closely.

“I'm going to have a dip myself,” he said
huskily, his cheek nearly touching hers as he moved to go past her.
Her heart jumped against her chest and she willed it to slow down,
afraid he would somehow notice.

The way he had looked at her coming out of
the water made her insides heat up. She didn't understand this
feeling. She was not acquainted with it, so it scared her. She
pulled the blanket closer and walked on up the embankment. The
curiosity to turn around and look at him was tempting, but she kept
on walking.

He seemed to be gone a long time and Jodi
couldn't stop herself from going to check on him. But when she saw
him coming up the embankment singing, she turned and almost ran to
the wagon. For nothing would she let him know she was curious about
him.

Hurriedly, she got inside the wagon, and the
tears came again for some reason. She didn't want to cry, but she
couldn't stop it. She supposed her condition caused it. She'd never
cried this much in her life, and she couldn't get used to the mood
swings.

Had she wanted to peek at him? Had she been
thrilled when he was close to her moments ago? She could not allow
herself to have any feelings for this man. For any man!

And the best way to squash them was to
remember that he was a coward, and she was with child.

There, her mind had spoken it aloud to her
thoughts. She had never allowed herself the privilege of admitting
she was with child. Somehow admitting it made it more real, more
frightening.

Marrying Hunt wouldn't hurt her any, though,
she reasoned. Even if he wasn't the father of her child, no one
else knew it. It actually afforded her a protection she hadn't
bargained on.

This child! How could she deal with these
emotions swamping her day and night? She wasn't used to it. She
wasn't an emotional woman; at least, she never had been, until now.
The morning sickness alone could give her away. Surely it wouldn't
last. She worried constantly about finding a doctor, and she was so
sleepy all the time. She couldn't get enough sleep. Hunt watched
her all the time. He was bound to guess, if he hadn't already.

She hated herself for wanting to be rid of
the baby. Simply hated herself. It wasn't something she should do.
She hadn't been brought up that way. She knew it was a sin. But
keeping Hershel Walker's baby was not something she could live
with. She wanted no part of Hershel Walker or his child. Yes, it
did go against everything she'd been taught about the good book,
but she'd been violated and surely God would understand her
motives. Wouldn't he? Although she hadn't been brought up in the
church, she still believed the good book and she knew this would be
a sin.

Aborting this child would be not only a sin,
but an abomination. Shouldn't she die too? A month ago, she hadn't
cared whether she lived or died. Now, she was changing again. With
child, moody, and sick half the time, it was too much. She had to
find a way to get rid of the baby for her own sanity's sake.

The child was an innocent baby, her mind
would cry back at her. How could she even think of doing such a
wicked thing? It wasn't the baby's fault. Months ago she wouldn't
have dreamed she could even conceive the idea, but a few months
ago, she hadn't been raped either.

It wouldn't be fair to the child to raise it
and not love it. And she couldn't love what was part of Hershel
Walker. Why was life so unfair? Why couldn't she have defended
herself better from Hershel? Why couldn't she have avoided him
altogether?

Remembering that night was like remembering a
terrible nightmare. How had he known that Clem and the boys were
gone into town? Had he watched her place as they left the ranch?
And why oh why did he want her? Why wasn't one of the girls in the
saloon good enough for him?

She remembered the night to a certain point.
She had finished cooking supper and was about to go to bed when he
had knocked on the door, pushing his way into her home. He’d
laughed at her startled gasp. She remembered smelling the whiskey
on his breath as he grabbed her to him. She remembered the first
hit across the jaw as she tried to push him away. She had clawed at
his face, and after that, she couldn't remember anything. Had she
purposely blanked it all out of her mind? No, the proof was in the
bruises. He had knocked her out, that was for sure and certain.
How, she didn't know. She wasn't sure if he gun butted her, struck
her again, or what. But, she had been out cold and knew nothing of
the taking. At least that part of it was a blessing.

Hours later, she lay in a pool of blood, her
blood. He had easily over-powered her futile attempts at defending
herself. When she came to, Clem was carrying her to her bed. He
cleaned her up as best he could, laid her down, and then she’d
slept for a long time. Her nose and mouth had been swollen where
he'd beat her.

She grabbed her belly now, and wept for the
child.

“I don't want to do this to you, but I have
to….don't you understand?” she cried. “It isn't fair…to you…to
me.”

Tears overcame her when she heard Hunt coming
up to the wagon, and she knew it was him by the sound of his
walking. He sort of sauntered with his hips, and his gun made a
noise when he moved. She quickly dashed the tears away. She tried
to look and act normal when he opened the wagon curtain she had
hung for privacy.

He looked at her thoroughly and then frowned.
“We'll make camp here tonight. Start out early in the morning.”

“All right.” She nodded. “I'll get the grub
started.”

“I'll send Matt to help you,” he added,
giving her another glance.

She nodded wordlessly and got out of the
wagon, not meeting his gaze. If he saw her tears, he said
nothing.

What had she been thinking, crying like that
in the wagon? Any one of the men could have disturbed her and
realized there was something wrong. If Hunt knew she was upset, he
didn't say anything. Instead, he watched her closely for the rest
of the evening.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“You got yourself some kind of dress you can
wear to our wedding?” Hunt asked as they rode into Waco, weary and
drenched with dust from the trail. She had to admit, he looked
pretty good, but she was a sight.

“No, I didn't bring dresses along on the
trail!” she said peevishly.

“Yeah, well, maybe the parson's wife can fix
you something.” He glanced at her.

“I don't see the need in dressing up at all.
It's not like it's a real wedding, after all. All we need is a
preacher to say the words and it's done, right?”

He glanced at her with a frown. This
certainly wasn't going to be the kind of wedding one looked forward
to. Instead, Jodi acted as though she were going to a hanging.
“Yeah, I reckon so.”

Why was he worrying himself over her a dress?
She wasn't exactly a willing bride and there'd be no real marriage,
so why fret about a dress? Still, deep down, he wished she would
want to spruce up a little. And he had a notion that if she really
wanted to, she might be real tolerable in a dress. Getting married
in britches just didn't look right.

He also had to remind himself that Jodi,
although influenced by his work, still thought of him as a dirty,
low-down coward and it didn't look like anything was going to
change that. Maybe he was the one expecting too much?

“We don't have to get married right away, do
we?” She gulped on her words.

He glanced at her and realized she wasn't
quite as willing as he'd thought back on the trail. Perhaps she was
merely acting to appease him. It had worked. Sometimes he'd forget
she didn't really like him.

They'd left the boys with the herd again, as
he’d explained their intentions of marriage and finding more men to
help with the long drive to Abilene, Kansas. With just the two of
them riding in, it had been a quiet ride, filled with some strange
tension he couldn't put a finger on.

But the quiet ended as they approached the
town of Waco. It wasn't a town to get familiar with. It certainly
wasn't as tame as Salado. It was wide open with cowboys looking to
make a name for themselves. Guns went off all over the town;
saloons were prevalent.

“We can't leave the herd more than a night.
We'll have to get this done and over with and get back. But if you
want to try to find a dress and all, I could wait till tomorrow
night, I suppose.”

“No, no use waiting. I don't need a dress. I
don't understand why you are so set on me wearing a dress. I'll
marry in what I have,” she insisted. “If that's not good enough for
you, we won't get married at all.”

He frowned again, his mouth set in grim
annoyance. They had almost gotten to a point of getting along, and
now this.

≈≈≈

She purposely turned her attention to the
town of Waco; it reeked with lawlessness and supported way too many
saloons.

She hadn't expected much, but her hopes ran
high of maybe contacting a doctor here, if she could ever spare a
minute away from Hunt.

Hunt stared at her wordlessly. It was hard to
read him tonight. She wasn't sure if it was the town or her that
had him in knots.

“I have some clean clothes in my saddle
bags,” she explained with cold sarcasm.

“Okay, then we'll go to the church and see
about a parson.” He nodded, but his voice held little
tolerance.

Getting married should be a celebration, yet
neither was celebrating.

“Think you could pick up some men in this
town?” she asked curiously as she noticed the tense lines of his
face. She wished silently that the night was over and done with. It
felt exactly as though she were going to a hanging. He didn't love
her, she didn't love him, there was no reason for all this…except
it would make the trip easier, and she knew that. If she thought
too long, she might back out altogether.