Authors: Gilbert Morris
“There may be something more stubborn and more stupid than a mule,” Rocklin remarked, “but offhand I can’t think of it.”
“I like them,” Callie said simply.
Chad laughed and turned to look at the girl. There was a light dust on her face, but the skin beneath was clear and smooth as anything he had ever seen. She had a fine ivory complexion, and there was a liveliness now in her gray eyes that made him wonder. “Never knew a woman that loved a mule. As a matter of fact, never saw a man that loved one either.”
“I do.”
“Why in the world would you like a mule?”
“Maybe because no one else does.” She smiled at him, and he saw that her teeth were perfect, unusually white and very even. Her lips were soft, well shaped, and the corners of them turned up into smiles. “Everyone needs someone to like them, don’t you think?”
“I reckon that’s right, but mules are sorry creatures.”
“They’re tougher than horses,” Callie said.
“Well, if it’s toughness you want, I reckon you found it in a mule.”
The two rode along talking idly. Suddenly Chad glanced around, his eyes narrowing. “Where’s Mark?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean, you don’t know? He’s supposed to be helping you.”
“I haven’t seen him all afternoon.”
The curtness of Callie’s reply was a tip-off to Rocklin. He reached out and grabbed her arm. This pulled her eyes around, and she said quickly, “Don’t pull me, please.”
“Sorry. I reckon I’m a little bit upset. Mark’s supposed to help you. I take it he hasn’t been doing it.”
Reluctance made Callie’s face stiffen, and she merely shrugged her shoulders. The whole picture suddenly became clear to Rocklin. He had not been watching Mark closely enough. Now his lips tightened, and he said, “You won’t have to do all the work from now on, Callie.” He suddenly kicked the big horse into a dead run, and Callie watched him ride off. She said nothing, but five minutes later when Pedro drifted close she told him what had happened. Pedro laughed, and his eyes gleamed. “I’d hate to be that Mark. He’s gonna get his tail kicked!”
* * *
AS SOON AS ROCKLIN rode up to Leland Hayden’s wagon and saw the small brown mare that Mark had been riding, he pretty well understood what had happened. “Pull up, boss.”
He waited until the wagon stopped and then stepped out of the saddle. Moving forward, he tied his horse to one of the wheels and as he did, Leland and Kate dismounted and came back to where he stood. “Is Mark in there?” Rocklin asked, his voice stiff and hard.
“He—he didn’t feel well,” Leland said. “I think he picked up some kind of cold.”
Rocklin’s glance went at once to Kate. He saw that she was saying nothing, but he saw something pass between the two.
Rocklin moved over to the wagon, threw back the canvas cover, and saw Mark lying flat on his back. Grabbing him by both ankles, he dragged him out. Mark gave a wild cry as he came out of the wagon; he hit the ground hard.
As Mark came to his feet, Rocklin took in the red-rimmed eyes, and the smell of raw whiskey was unmistakable. “What do you mean putting your hands on me?” Mark said, his voice slurred.
Jori suddenly appeared, and her eyes were angry. “What are you doing, Rocklin? He’s sick.”
“No, he’s not sick. He’s drunk.”
Jori started to speak, but Kate suddenly interrupted her. “Be quiet, Jori.”
Jori turned with astonishment and saw that Kate’s eyes were fixed on her, and her lips were tight with displeasure. Very rarely was it that Jori had heard her aunt speak like this, especially since she had become a grown woman. At that moment she understood that she was in a different world and that the old world would not work any longer. Clamping her lips together, Jori turned to Rocklin and saw that he was waiting for her to speak. When she did not, he turned and said, “Mark, you’re a sorry excuse for a man. You haven’t done an honest day’s work since we left Little Rock, but you’re going to from now on.”
“I’m tired of riding herd on these stinking mules!”
“You won’t have to anymore. You just lost your good job. Addie Joss will take your place.”
“Good!”
“Nope, you’ll be the wood finder.”
The alcohol had dulled Mark’s senses, and he could not make sense of that. “What?” he demanded.
“You see those boxes on the back of all the big wagons? They’re wood boxes. There’ll be times when we camp and there won’t be any wood. That’s why they need to be filled, and you’ll be the filler. Every night when we camp if those boxes aren’t full, you don’t eat. I want those boxes filled.”
“I won’t do it!” Mark said angrily.
“If you don’t, then you won’t eat. Up to you.”
Rocklin reached out, unhitched Mark’s horse, walked around and mounted his own and rode away without another word.
“He can’t do that to me, can he?”
“He’s the wagon master, son,” Leland said heavily. He turned around and walked toward the head of the wagon.
Kate came over and said quietly, “You’ll have to give in, Mark.”
Mark said furiously, “Not me, Aunt Kate!”
Kate exchanged glances with Jori and shook her head slightly then turned. She got up into the seat and said, “Let’s go.”
“What will happen, Kate?” Leland asked.
“That’s up to Mark.”
* * *
FOR THE NEXT TWO hours after the incident, Mark trudged along staying just behind the light wagon. His legs were weak, and by the time he saw Rocklin had formed the wagons into a circle, he was having to reach for breath. He went over at once and sat down beside one of the wheels and pulled his hat down over his face and went to sleep.
He was awakened sometime later by the delicious smell of something cooking. Moving his hat brim back, he saw Kate, Jori, his father, and Carleen roasting small birds over a fire. The fat was dripping into the flames and sent up a delicious aroma that made his stomach hurt. He had eaten nothing all day, and now he desperately wanted some food, but his pride kept him where he was.
He sat there in total misery while the others talked and ate.
Finally he heard Rocklin say, “Better get some sleep. It’s gonna rain tomorrow. Looks like a flood coming.” He heard Rocklin’s footsteps approaching and then knew the big man was standing right over him. “If I were you,” Rocklin said mildly, “I’d fill those
wood boxes. It’s a long way to Santa Fe without something to eat, Mark.”
Mark did not respond. He sat there angry through and through, then he heard softer footsteps and his aunt’s voice. “You’ll have to give in, Mark.”
“Not me,” Mark said and turned away from her.
The next day at breakfast Mark was ravenous. He waited for his father to intervene but saw that was not going to happen. Jori finally came over and said, “Mark, come and eat something. It won’t hurt you to fill the boxes. You don’t have to fill them all up.”
“I won’t do it, Jori. He can’t make me.”
He got to his feet and said nothing to anyone until, finally, the train started.
The rain started at the same time. It was only a soft drizzle at first, settling the dust, which made everything smell good; but soon it began to come down in a solid sheet. They had all brought slickers, and Mark went to the wagon where Kate fished his out in silence. He half expected her to offer him some food, but she did not.
All morning long Mark trudged beside the wagon. He broke his stride only once to forge ahead and go to the wagon driven by Charlie Reuschel. “Charlie, you got anything to eat?”
“Not for you,” Charlie grinned down. The rain was running off of his hat. “The boss said you don’t eat until you fill the wood boxes. Was I you, I think I’d get to work. A long way to Santa Fe on an empty belly.”
At that moment something turned inside of Mark Hayden. He knew that the word was out, that the mule skinners all grinned at him, and some of them laughed outright and made fun of him.
“I’ve got to do something,” he said. His pride was strong, and when they pulled up for camp, the rain was coming down steadily. He watched as Addie Joss and Rocklin put up a tarpaulin and Rocklin helped get a small fire going. It was hard with wet wood, but he had told Kate to cover up the wood that they were carrying, and there was enough for a small fire. Kate cooked supper, and Rocklin came over and said so quietly that no one could hear him, “Mark, we’re all of us fools when we are young. You wouldn’t believe some of the crazy things I did. When I look back, I see that I didn’t make a thing off of it. You’re gonna have to work, son. Why don’t you come and get something to eat?”
Mark knew that he was whipped. It almost hurt him to have to speak, but he grunted solemnly, “All right. I’ll get the wood.”
“Well, that’s fine. Better come and have some supper. It’s right good. It might be the last hot meal we have for a time in this rain.”
Mark watched as Rocklin walked over and said something to Kate and saw her begin to stir. He moved over as soon as Rocklin left. “Here, Mark, some of this stew ought to be good,” Kate offered.
Mark took the bowl, and it was all that he could do to keep from crying out with pleasure as he ate. He could not meet Kate’s eyes nor his father’s, but finally he said, “I’ll get the wood. I told Rocklin.”
“That’s fine, son,” Leland said quickly.
Kate put her hand on his shoulder and said nothing, but when he met her eyes, he saw that she was pleased with him. “I’ve got some biscuits from this morning,” she said. “You can put some of the sorghum I’ve got left on them. It’ll go down good.”
Jori watched all this, and as soon as Rocklin left, she followed him. The rain had slacked off, but it was still falling in something more than a mist but less than the driving rain they had endured all day. “Rocklin,” she said, and when he turned, she saw he was watching her cautiously. “How long would you have kept him from eating?”
“Don’t know, Jori.”
“He’s my brother,” Jori said with some reluctance, “and he’s weak, but we all are. Don’t you understand that?”
“Sure I do. But don’t you understand if we make it to Santa Fe, we’re going to have to give everything we’ve got. If I let down, I’m not just letting myself down, I’m letting every man and every woman in this train down. We’ve got to hang together. That’s what it means to be in a thing like this.”
Jori weighed his words and then said, “I don’t understand you.”
“Nothing much to understand.”
“You would have let him starve?”
“Didn’t think it would come to that, Jori. Most of us have a breaking point, and I figured Mark would find his before he starved. As a matter of fact, I can remember a few times when I was about his age and just as stubborn and just as proud. I had to almost be broke in two. Well, it didn’t hurt me. It may even be good for Mark.”
“You’re too hard.”
Rocklin put his gaze on her, and not for the first time was intensely aware of the clean-running physical lines of her figure and the lovely turnings of her throat. She had a mouth that was ripe and self-possessed, and her face was a mirror that changed as her feelings changed. He suddenly was aware that old hungers
were stirring in him and knew such things were hopeless with this woman.
“I guess that’s right. I’ve had to be.” He watched her for a moment and then turned and disappeared into the darkness.
THE RAIN HAD POURED down steadily for two days with scarcely a break. At times it was almost impossible to see through the slanting lines of drops as they formed a curtain over the train. The darkness of the sky added to the gloom, and Jori was absolutely miserable as her horse plodded along beside their light wagon. The ground had turned to a mud that seemed to suck the hooves of the animals into it. Up and down the line the raucous curses of the mule skinners were punctuated by the cracking of their whips.
Occasionally the sun would break through, and the rain would modify until it became a mist that soaked clothing to the skin. The rays of the sun threw an amber corona of nearly futile light, twisting the shadows of the trees beside the road into tortured shapes. The lack of sleep and the miserable weather was enough to keep Jori irritated, and finally Carleen, who did not seem to mind the weather at all, said loudly, “I don’t want to talk to you anymore, Jori,” and had splashed off in the mud to find someone else. Jori had the impulse to call her back and apologize, but she felt too miserable for that.
At noon they stopped to rest the animals that were already exhausted by the half day’s labor of pulling the heavily loaded wagons through the sea of mud. Jori got off her horse, and her
feet sank in the mud halfway to her knees. She gave a disgusted cry and pulled her foot out, leaving the shoe in the mud. This meant that she had to get down and fish it out. She stood there on one foot undecided as to whether to put her foot back into the mud-filled shoe then gave up. With a sigh she shoved her foot in and managed to make her way over to Kate who was fishing in the back of the wagon for something in which to make a cold lunch.
“This is awful, Aunt Kate,” she said. “I don’t think it’ll ever stop raining.”
“It always has.” Kate turned. Her hair was wet and hung down her back in strings. “I reckon Noah and his folks felt the same way, but from what I hear about the trail ahead, there’ll be days when we’ll be wishing we could have some of this water.”
“I’ve got to change shoes. Look at these.”
“If you’ve got any boots, you’d better put ’em on. You’re going to need ’em.”
Jori climbed into the wagon and had to move boxes and supplies until she finally found the box containing her extra shoes and a pair of knee-high boots that she had bought at some time in the past. She sat there amid the conglomeration of supplies and clothing, putting on dry socks and the boots. She scrambled outside and found Good News talking to Kate. “Howdy, Miss Jori. Think it’s gonna rain?”
Jori gave him a disgusted shake of her head. Carefully she came to the ground and looked for a good path, but there was none. “Bring me my horse, will you, Good News?”
“Sure will.” Good News brought the horse over, and Jori mounted him from the back of the wagon.
“I’ll have dry feet until I get off,” she said. She looked ahead and said, “I’m going to ask Rocklin how far we’re going to go
today.” She moved away, and Good News stared after her. His eyes were thoughtful, and he shook his head.