Authors: Verna Clay
Cooper pushed away from the wagon and said, "It
must be pretty, 'cause it's sure got you smiling."
"It's absolutely beautiful. Such talent
these women possess to create these intricate designs." She lifted the
necklace and drew it over the top of her bonnet to settle against her heart.
"I love it because it will always remind me of my journey west."
The smile on her face made Cooper want to buy a
shitload of the necklaces for her, but realizing the inappropriateness of his
thoughts, he said, "Looks nice," and quickly turned to find another
chore to occupy his time.
When supper was ready, Hallie called to Cooper
and handed him a plate heaping with boiled potatoes smothered in the butter
they'd laughed about earlier. She also generously loaded his plate with
flatbread, salt pork, and pickled green beans.
After supper, Hallie and Tim seemed to melt
before Cooper's eyes. Although they had ridden in the wagon for a goodly
portion of the day's walk, they weren't used to such activity and Cooper knew
it would take a few days for them to get into the swing of things. Hell,
he
wasn't used to all that walking. Wisely, Captain Jones wasn't pushing the
emigrants, knowing they needed to build their stamina for the coming months.
Before bedding down beside the wagon, Cooper checked their rig and animals one
more time.
Shortly before sunrise, he stretched and
listened to the animals and pioneers waking to a new day. His back protested
when he lifted himself off the hard ground and he chastised himself for getting
soft. Quickly rolling his bedding and tying it to the side of the wagon, he got
the fire started and the coffee going.
By the time Hallie and Tim exited the wagon he
was squatting beside the fire and pouring his first cup. "Good mornin'
ma'am; Tim." He raised his cup in their direction. "Coffee's hot,
strong, and delicious. Can I pour you some?"
Hallie responded, "Oh, yes, please!"
Tim gave his mother a hopeful look and she said,
"You can have half a cup, son."
"Thanks, Ma. Do you want me to pull the
skillet out for breakfast?"
"I do. And then gather six eggs out of their
cornmeal packing." She ruffled his hair. "And do be gentle so they
don't break."
Cooper handed Hallie her coffee and set Tim's on
a nearby rock until he returned from his errands.
Hallie sat on the chair Cooper had made sure to include
with their supplies and sipped her coffee. Early light suffused the campground
and she asked, "Did you sleep well?"
"Yes, ma'am. Yourself?"
"I fear I was so tired not even a stampede
would have awakened me."
Cooper laughed at her confession. "Your
body will adjust and become stronger in a few days."
She kicked a stone at her feet and said
hesitantly, "About what happened yesterday with the preacher lady…"
When she paused, Cooper interjected, "Some unfortunate
people have yet to learn respect or human kindness—even if they profess to be
God-fearing folk. For myself, I don't pay them no nevermind. But for a fine
lady like yourself to be subjected to that…it makes me mad. Captain Jones answered
that woman better than anyone could have."
Hallie nodded and they sat silent for a few
minutes.
Cooper spoke again as if there had been no pause.
"But that woman, dead set as she is in her determination, will more'n
likely keep nitpicking and gossiping."
Hallie sighed, "I know. I just hate for Tim
to be subjected to such rubbish."
"I wouldn't worry too much about him. He's
a strong boy, seeins' as how he's adjusting to losing his pa. He'll be
okay."
Cooper's heart constricted when Hallie glanced
up, her eyes bright with unshed tears. Wanting to change the subject, he said,
"The next notable stop is the Wakarusa River."
Hallie's face lit with interest. "How far
are we from there?"
"Two or three days."
Tim, who had just joined them, handed his mother
a tin bowl with eggs cushioned by a towel, and asked excitedly, "Are we gonna
ride the wagons across the river?"
Cooper laughed, "No. There's a ferry for
crossing over. In the early days of the trail, however, the pioneers did a lot
of river crossings without the aid of ferries or bridges, son." He immediately
realized his slip-of-the-tongue in calling Tim "son," and quickly turned
from Hallie's gaze. "Guess I best start getting ready for the day."
He hastened to yoke the oxen.
* * *
As the wagons began pulling away from the grassy
flatland, the Indian women, along with several children and younger women, watched
their departure from the side of the road, smiling and waving. Hallie felt
ashamed of her previous wariness of these kind people and waved farewell in
return. Touching the lovely necklace lying against her breast, she whispered to
her dead husband, "Tom, I've just had a grand experience."
Although Hallie now had blisters on both feet,
the ointment she had applied the night before helped and she felt stronger
today. The blue sky, puffy clouds, gentle breeze, and Cooper walking ahead of
her, cracking the whip above the animals and calling "Gee," or
"Haw," depending on the direction he wanted them to go, lifted her
spirit into the heavens.
Tim must have felt the same because he loped
beside her, kicking stones and bending over to pick up interesting ones before tossing
them into the fields they walked past. He picked up a stick and pretended it
was a sword. "I'm a powerful knight." He thrust the sword in front of
him, sidestepping an invisible opponent, then parried and made a slicing motion.
"Gotcha!" he shouted.
Cooper heard him, turned around and grinned, and
then returned his attention to the oxen.
Tim tucked his stick-sword into the waist of his
pants. "I sure like Mr. Jerome. Don't you, Ma?"
Hallie peered down at her son. "I surely
do."
Tim observed, "Sometimes I think he's sad,
though. You know, maybe if he talked about it, he would feel better. Like whenever
I talk to you about losin' Pa, I feel better." He paused and then lifted
his head to stare into his mother's eyes. "Do you think we should tell him
he might feel better if he talked about what's makin' him sad?"
Hallie closed her gaping mouth. How should she
answer her son's wisdom? "Tim, sometimes it's best to let a person come to
that conclusion on his own. I don't think Mr. Jerome is ready to talk about
whatever it is."
They walked on in silence for several minutes
and then Tim said, "Okay, Ma, I won't say anything, but I sure hope Mr. Jerome
figures it out, 'cause it might make him happier."
Later, when the wagons in front of them slowed
to a crawl, Hallie craned her neck to see what lay ahead. The wagons halted and
Cooper said, "We're coming to a junction. We're backed up because some of
the trains ahead of ours are turning west to follow the Santa Fe Trail into New
Mexico Territory, but others, like us, are continuing northwest. After we pass
the junction, our speed will pick up again, but we won't get far before it's
time to make camp."
That night as they lay inside their wagon, Tim
snoring contentedly, Hallie reached to move the flap aside and contemplate the
stars. A smile lifted the corners of her mouth as she whispered, "Thank
you, Lord, for sending Cooper to guide us on this long journey."
After four days travel from Westport the captain's
warning about over packing could be seen in the belongings previous trains had
pitched to the side of the road. Even some folks in their own train had to
lighten their loads.
They also established a daily routine. Rising at
daylight, fires were lit, bodies were washed and dressed, men and older
children tended to the animals, and women and younger children prepared the morning
meal. Throughout the morning ritual, Captain Jones and his leaders circled the
wagons on horseback looking for potential mechanical problems, seeing how folks
were faring, and offering encouragement.
Hallie couldn't help but notice that the leaders
spent the least amount of time with the Pittance group. Although Cooper didn't
avoid them, his temperament after a visit was always dark. Hallie could only
imagine Mrs. Pittance's distasteful behavior. Pastor Pittance, big-boned, gray-eyed,
with a long white beard the same color as his close-cropped hair, was less
vocal than his wife. In fact, he seemed content to observe and not interfere
with his congregation—very peculiar to Hallie's way of thinking. Her own pastor
in Jebson had overseen his flock like a mother bear protecting her cubs, and
the parishioners were loving country folk who did everything in their power to
help each other and strangers. Yes, the Pittance group was strange, indeed.
As for Tim, he was always captivated by birds,
small creatures scurrying in the underbrush, the occasional snake or other
reptile, and even the changing flora and scenery. He truly had inherited his
father's love of knowledge and heart for adventure.
The most difficult aspect of the journey for
Hallie was the continuous walking, of which Cooper was mindful. Often, he turned
around with an expression that said as loud as words:
It's time to climb in
the wagon.
Halting the oxen, he would then help her onto the wagon seat
where she would ride for the next hour, sometimes even longer.
On the day of their scheduled arrival at the
Wakarusa river crossing, Hallie was happily observing nature with Tim and
sharing her excitement of reaching a milestone when she stumbled over a
protruding tree root. Sharp pain shot up her ankle and she gasped, falling to
her knees.
Tim yelled, "Mr. Jerome! Ma's hurt!"
Immediately Cooper jerked around, halted the
oxen, and rushed to help.
When the blackness that accompanied near fainting
subsided, Hallie tried to make light of her injury. "Dumb me. I wasn't
looking where I was going." She attempted to rise, but excruciating pain
caused her to groan and drop back down.
Cooper ordered, "Don't move. Tim, run ahead
and let Captain Jones know what's happened."
Hallie said, "I'm so sorry. Now I've held
the train up and we were almost to the river. I feel terrible."
"These things happen, dear."
Cooper's endearment clutched Hallie's heart and
made it flutter. For a second, her pain was forgotten.
He continued, "I need to determine if your
ankle is broken before moving you."
Numbly, she nodded.
Cooper lifted her skirt to uncover her ankle and
gently probed it through the leather of her shoe. Hallie couldn't take her eyes
off his fingers testing her mobility. He looked up and smiled encouragingly.
"I don't think it's broken. Your high top shoe probably kept that from
happening."
Hallie nodded again, her pain falling low on her
list of priorities as long as Cooper's eyes, the same color as the cloudless
sky, held her gaze.
He said gently, "Put your arms around my
neck so I can lift you into the wagon."
When he bent and placed one arm under her back
and the other under her legs, she encircled his neck and had an almost overwhelming
desire to snuggle her head against his broad chest.
Several of their fellow travelers rushed to assist
and Captain Jones galloped over on Midnight, his powerful black gelding. In his
booming voice he ordered the pioneers to step aside and reached Hallie just as
Cooper lifted her into the back of the wagon.
Cooper said, "She's got a bad sprain. But
I'd appreciate your opinion."
Captain Jones dismounted and Cooper backed away.
The gentle probing of the Captain's big hands belied his rough personage and he
smiled encouragingly. "I think you're right, Cooper, it's a sprain, but let's
get the shoe off and recheck it before it swells more."
Cooper glanced at Hallie. "This is going to
hurt, so it's okay if you need to yell."
Hallie nodded her understanding and clasped her
hands tightly together while Cooper slowly unlaced and removed her shoe. Pain
shot to the top of her head, but she refused to vocalize her discomfort or
appear feeble in the eyes of the crowd now gathered at the back of her wagon.
She was unable to stifle a moan, however.
Once her shoe was off, another examination confirmed
no broken bones and the pioneers released a corporate sigh of relief. Captain
Jones ordered everyone back to their wagons and mounted Midnight. To Cooper, he
said, "Send the boy to the front to let me know when you're ready to move
on."
Cooper responded, "Yes, sir; should be
about a quarter hour."
Tim hovered close to the wagon, worried.
"You feelin' better, Ma?"
Wanting to comfort and reassure him, although
her ankle throbbed, she said, "I am, son. Don't you worry about me; I'll
be right as rain in a couple of days."
Her answer brightened his spirit. Cooper suggested,
"We need to cool and wrap your ma’s ankle. Why don't you climb in the wagon
and hand me those strips of cloth we got stored and then wet a towel."
"Yes, sir."
Tim circled the wagon, hoisted himself through
the front, and opened the leather satchel stocked with medical supplies. After
digging in the bag, he handed the cloth strips to Cooper who set them aside
temporarily. Cooper turned his gaze on Hallie and asked, "Do you want some
laudanum?"
Hallie had no intention of taking the powerful
drug that would only make her sleep. "No, I don't think so. I want to stay
awake."
The wagon jostled when Tim jumped down to the
ground. He opened the lid of the water barrel fastened to the frame and then
walked to the back to hand Cooper a wet towel.
Hallie watched Cooper gently place the cool
cloth on her ankle, the ministration of his hands stealing her breath. She felt
like a fireball on the verge of exploding. When his fingers left the cloth and stroked
her calf beneath her skirt in an intimate caress, God help her, she didn't want
him to stop.
* * *
Cooper jerked his hand from Hallie's leg and
swore under his breath.
My God, have you lost your mind?
Seeing Hallie’s widened eyes, he knew she had
not misunderstood his caress. Glancing away, he said matter-of-factly,
"Looks like you'll be down for a few days, but that'll give your feet time
to heal from the blisters." He directed his words to Tim who was placing
the lid back on the water barrel. "Tim, guess you'll be doing a few extra
chores for awhile, but I know you can handle it."
Tim replied seriously, "Yes, sir. Whatever
you and ma need."
Cooper glanced back at Hallie. "I need to
wrap your ankle so we can get this train moving again."
Hallie met his gaze and quickly darted her eyes
to her skirt, playing with a fold. "That's okay; I can do it."
Shit. Now I've got her avoiding me.
"Alright."
For the next two hours, Cooper berated himself
for giving in to his desire to caress Hallie. When the noon break was called, he
hurried to check on her. She had wrapped her ankle tightly, but she was still
avoiding his gaze. Somehow he had to get them back on familiar footing.
Cooper sent Tim to gather firewood because he
needed privacy with Hallie to apologize, and hopefully, get them back on track.
After Tim left, he asked, "How are you feeling?"
"It's bearable," she said in a small
voice, gazing at the top of the canvas.
Gathering his courage, Cooper said, "Hallie,
please look at me."
He watched the swallowing motion of her throat
and his stomach knotted, but he continued anyway. "I want you to
understand something."
She turned green eyes on him and nodded almost
imperceptibly.
"First, I want to apologize for my behavior
earlier." When she didn't respond, he continued, "You know what I'm
talking about, don't you?"
She nodded slightly again.
"I…" He found it almost impossible to
continue. He tried again. "I haven't enjoyed a woman's company for a long
time and touching a woman is…pleasurable."
God, Cooper, you sound like
an ass.
"What I'm trying to say is, I'm sorry, and it won't happen
again. You hired me to do a job and I intend to get you and Tim to Oregon and
settled. I don't want you to be afraid of me or avoid me. What happened…won't
happen again. Can we go back to the way things were?"
* * *
Two emotions bombarded Hallie: relief and
disappointment. Relief for obvious reasons, but her disappointment distressed
her. According to Cooper's confession, his reaction would have been the same
with any woman, and that was disappointing.
Sure, she understood that a man had lustful
desires at times. Even her soft-spoken, kindly Thomas, had occasionally been overcome
by it, and she had enjoyed that part of their lives, but never had she experienced
the all consuming fire ignited by Cooper's breathtakingly sensual touch.