Wagon Trail (6 page)

Deborah blinked. “Well, it’s okay with me if it’s okay with them. And, of course, with their parents.”

“It’s okay with us,” Stevie assured her.

“Well, let’s go call everybody in Virginia and explain the situation.”

An hour later, the girls stood with Deborah in the lobby of the lodge. They had all gotten permission from their parents to remain on the trip, and they were waiting with Deborah for the cab that was to take her back to the airport.

“It’s too bad I’m not going to be able to write that article,” Deborah said as she leaned against a long leather sofa. “That was the whole reason we came out here in the first place.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, Deborah,” Carole said. “Lisa and Stevie and I can do all the research you could possibly want. Stevie’s even keeping a journal.”

“That’s right,” said Stevie. “We can help you write the article when we get back.”

Lisa gave Deborah a hug. “It’s the least we can do.”

“Well, thanks, girls,” Deborah said, hugging each of them. “I appreciate your good intentions.”

“No, really,” insisted Stevie. “We can be a big help. I know we can.”

Just then the cab pulled up.

“I’ve got to go,” said Deborah, grabbing her backpack. “You girls be careful and do what Jeremy tells you. I’ll see you in about a week!”

The Saddle Club waved as the cab pulled away from the lodge, leaving them standing alone with ten covered wagons under a dark sky spangled with stars.

“S
TEVIE
! W
AKE
UP
!” Carole reined in Nikkia and peered at Stevie, who was nodding in the driver’s seat of the wagon. Breakfast was over, and everyone was waiting to pull out.

“I’m not asleep,” Stevie said, yawning. “I’m just resting my eyes. I never could get back to sleep after Deborah left.”

“Me neither,” said Lisa, who stood on the other side of the wagon holding Veronica by a frazzled rope. Lisa rubbed her eyes. “I think I got about fifteen minutes of sleep the entire night. I couldn’t believe it when the triangle rang at five-thirty. This is going to be one long day!”

Stevie blinked at Jeremy, who had ridden to the front of the column. Suddenly she sat up straight and tightened the reins. “I’m not sure, but I think our long day might be starting right now.”

The girls looked toward the lead wagon. Jeremy, on a big brown-and-white paint horse, stood to one side of it. He waited for everyone’s attention, then rose in his stirrups.

“Everyone ready?” he called, lifting his hat high above his head and grinning broadly.

Everyone in the wagon train cheered.

“Then wagons ho!” he called. His horse rose up once on its hind legs, then turned quickly around. With a swish of its tail, it carried Jeremy westward at a brisk trot. One by one, the wagons began to lumber after him.

“Here we go!” Stevie cried when their turn to move came. She popped Yankee and Doodle’s reins. The horses strained hard against their collars. Then all at once The Saddle Club began to roll west.

The morning was a busy one. Stevie itched constantly from the rough material of her dress, and the wagon bumped her rear end with every turn of the wheels. The sun beamed down on the back of her neck, and though Yankee and Doodle pulled the wagon easily, they paid far more attention to the team in front of them than they did to Stevie.

Lisa spent the morning trying to control Veronica, who tended to stop every ten feet to graze leisurely by the side of the road.

“Come on, Veronica,” Lisa would coo sweetly, giving a gentle tug on the rope. “We need to walk this way, over by the wagons.” Veronica would look dully at Lisa, take one step, then pull up a mouthful of grass as the wagon train rolled past them. “Come on, sweet Veronica,” Lisa would call again, tugging harder. Veronica would chew her grass and budge only an inch. Finally, as the dust from the passing wagons began to sting Lisa’s eyes and clog her nose, she took a deep breath and gave a mighty heave on Veronica’s rope. “Come on, you nitwit cow!” she commanded. At that, Veronica bawled a low
moo
and began to trudge forward.

Though she was sleepy, Carole was able to endure Nikkia’s rough trot all morning. She could tell by the way the stocky Appaloosa slapped his ears back when she asked for a canter that he had been the victim of a lot of what she called kick-and-yank riders. As she looked around, she saw that many of the people riding with the wagon train were that kind of rider.

“If you pull the right rein gently, then release it, he’ll go more willingly,” she finally told Karen Nicely, a woman whose horse was so confused by her aids that he had just stopped, unable to figure out which way she wanted him to go.

“Thanks,” Karen Nicely said, trying what Carole had suggested.

“Hey, how do you make them stop?” asked a breathless man whose horse was jigging sideways.

“And how do you make them back up?” called someone else.

Suddenly Carole found herself giving mini–riding lessons, right there in the middle of the trail. She didn’t mind, because she didn’t want any novice riders abusing their horses from lack of knowledge. Still, showing everybody what to do as the wagons rolled around them was exhausting,
I never realized before what a good job Max does of teaching
, she thought as she and Nikkia were finally able to canter back up to Stevie and the wagon.

They stopped for lunch at midday. Stevie pulled the team to a halt while Carole fetched water for Veronica and their three horses. Lisa tugged Veronica up to the wagon and tied her to the rear wheel. After they had taken care of their animals, they trudged over to the chow line.

“How’s it going for you girls?” Jeremy asked as he strode past.

Stevie yawned. “Fine, except I’ve got blisters on my rear from the wagon, and blisters on my fingers from the reins, plus neither Yankee nor Doodle is paying me a whole lot of attention.”

“And Veronica pays me no attention at all,” added Lisa.

Jeremy grinned. “Great. This is exactly what the pioneers had to deal with—cranky cows and hardmouthed horses. You’re getting a real taste of history!”

“Right now, I’d rather get a real taste of lunch!” said Carole as Jeremy ran over to assist a family whose wagon wheel needed to be greased.

Shelly Bean worked hard ladling out the fried cornmeal mush and fresh apples he’d fixed for lunch. “Eat hearty!” he called as the girls took their plates and sat down beside a small pond. The mush and apples seemed like a peculiar lunch, but they tasted wonderful, and soon they felt their usual energy levels returning.

“I’m beginning to understand why they assigned four people to a wagon,” Stevie said, rubbing the blisters on her hand. “Taking care of a wagon plus three horses and a cow is a tough job for four people, let alone three.”

“Don’t forget that Jeremy is always here to help us,” Carole said.

“Oh, I think we’ll be fine, but it’s exhausting doing all these jobs by ourselves.” Lisa wiped the dust from her forehead. “Why don’t we change places every few hours? The jobs won’t get any easier, but at least we’ll exercise different parts of our anatomies. Stevie, you won’t get bounced so badly; Carole, your legs won’t be
so sore; and maybe one of you will have better luck with the cow.”

“That’s a good idea,” agreed Stevie. “Although I don’t think any of us would have much luck with anything named Veronica.”

After lunch they resumed their jobs, agreeing to switch off in an hour. Stevie pulled on a pair of leather gloves she’d thrown into her backpack, so the blisters on her fingers bothered her less. Once again Jeremy rode to the head of the column, waved his hat, and shouted, “Wagons ho!” And once again they were off.

The wagons rolled westward onto the vast plains. Miles of flat, nearly treeless land stretched to the horizon. As far as the girls could see, the long green grass was dotted with small purple wildflowers. Little yellow birds Polly Shaver called western meadowlarks chattered to each other, and the delicious smell of earth and new grass drifted on the warm breeze.

“This doesn’t look much like Virginia, does it?” Stevie commented as Lisa tugged Veronica along.

“No, but it’s just as pretty.” Lisa looked out over the prairie. “It’s pretty in a flatter, more open way.”

“I wonder how far away we can see.” Carole squinted at the distant horizon from atop Nikkia’s back.

“Maybe fifty miles,” guessed Stevie. “After all, these are the wide-open spaces.”

Suddenly Veronica stopped dead in her tracks. She twisted her head around and pulled up a mouthful of grass. “Looks like it’s Veronica’s snack time.” Lisa shrugged at Stevie as the wagon rumbled past her. “We’ll catch up to you later.”

“Okay.” Stevie scratched under the collar of her dress. “See you soon.”

She and Carole rolled on until a voice came from the rear of the train. “Hey, Carole! Can you help me with this horse?”

Carole looked over her shoulder to see a desperate-looking man on an equally desperate-looking pinto waving at her. “I think someone needs a riding lesson,” she said to Stevie as she turned Nikkia and began to trot toward the man. “I’ll be back in a few minutes!”

“Don’t teach him anything I wouldn’t teach him!” warned Stevie with a laugh.

Stevie drove on, content to let the sun warm her face as Yankee and Doodle followed the wagon ahead of them.

“Hi!” she heard a small voice call.

She looked down. Beside her wagon skipped the pretty little blond girl who’d charmed everyone at their get-acquainted breakfast.

“Hi,” said Stevie. “You’re Eileen, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” Eileen smiled. She held up a straw basket filled
with angel-shaped cookies. “My mother baked these cookies and we were wondering if you’d like one.”

“Sure,” said Stevie. She reached down and grabbed a cookie from the basket. “Thanks.”

“It’s neat that you can drive a wagon and eat at the same time,” Eileen said admiringly.

“Oh, it’s not too hard,” Stevie replied, her mouth full. “Would you like to learn how to drive?”

“Sure.” Eileen’s eyes were bright.

“Then climb up here and I’ll show you.” Stevie reached down to help her onto the wagon. In a moment Eileen was sitting beside her.

“Okay, Eileen. Here’s what you do. Put the left rein over the index finger of your left hand, then put the right rein under your middle finger.” Stevie helped Eileen arrange the reins in her hand. “Then hold your hand right at your belly button with your knuckles facing the horses.”

Eileen positioned her hand as Stevie had showed her. “Is that all?” She looked up at Stevie with pale green eyes.

“Just about,” said Stevie.

Eileen frowned as Yankee and Doodle trudged along. “How could you make them go faster?”

“Oh, you just pop a whip over their heads, or you pop the reins, if you haven’t got a whip.”

“Like this?” Eileen took the long ends of the reins
and gave both horses a sudden, vicious swat on their rumps.

“No!” Stevie cried, but it was too late. Yankee whinnied and reared in the traces, and then both horses surged forward at a gallop.

The jolt somersaulted Eileen backward into the wagon and loosened the reins in her hand. Stevie had just enough time to grab them before they fell between the horses’ thundering feet. Quickly she grasped them in her left hand and braced herself against the footboard of the wagon. “Whoa!” she called, pulling hard on the reins. “Whoa!”

The horses did not stop. They galloped straight for the wagon in front of them, where a little boy sat in the back, a look of terror on his face. Stevie realized she would have to turn the team quickly if she was to avoid a real disaster.

“Haw!” she cried as loudly as she could, using both hands to turn the horses to the left. “Haw, Yankee! Haw, Doodle!”

The horses drew closer. Just as they were about to lunge into the wagon, Doodle pulled to the left. Yankee followed. Stevie’s wagon flew past the other wagon in a blur, stirring up a huge cloud of yellow dust.

“Hey!” Stevie heard an angry voice shout over the sound of other horses whinnying. “No racing! You’re messing up the order of the train!”

“I’m not racing!” Stevie said through gritted teeth as she pulled back on the reins with all her strength. “I’m trying to stop!”

Finally Yankee and Doodle slowed to a trot, and Stevie managed to pull them to a stop just as they drew up even with the lead wagon. For a moment it was all she could do just to breathe through the thick dust.

“Everything okay here?” Jeremy galloped up on his paint, frowning.

“Fine, now,” gasped Stevie, red-faced and still out of breath.

“Well, take your place back in line when you can,” he said firmly as he turned back to the head of the column.

“Just a minute.” Stevie heard a small voice behind her. Eileen scrambled out from inside the wagon and climbed to the ground. “Some driving teacher you are,” she said, glaring up at Stevie. “Look what you did to my angel cookies!” She held up the basket of broken cookies for Stevie to see.

“Well, gosh, so sorry,” Stevie muttered. She started to add that she and Eileen could have wound up as crumbled as the cookies, but Eileen was already running back to the other wagons. Stevie shook her head and pulled Yankee and Doodle around, waiting to take her place in the line. As she waited, she watched Eileen run
up and down the wagon train, showing everybody her broken cookies and pointing at Stevie.