Clay by Ana Leigh

clothing—especially in the mountains at night. If the trip’s smooth, we could hit them as early as the middle of August, but if we hit them much later than that, we could be in for some rough going. We leave the Oregon Trail in southern Idaho, then we hit the desert, with intense heat during the day and cold at night. Figure on four to six months at least. On a really good day we can cover as much as fifteen or twenty miles; on a bad day, none.
    “Anyone I haven’t met, please come up and introduce yourself now or later tonight. The first wagon pulls out at six o’clock tomorrow morning. I don’t want a stampede of wagons jockeying for a place in line, so after you’ve signed the agreement form, draw a number from the pot on Jim’s table, and that’ll be your wagon position. Those who draw the low numbers should position themselves near the western end of town, so there’s no delay in starting off.
    “Good luck to you all, and we’ll kick off the trip with a dance tonight right here in the warehouse. The grub and drinks are on me, so enjoy the evening. And then, California, here we come!”
    His outcry was met with whistles and shouts. Rebecca couldn’t help wondering if they’d all have that same enthusiasm in three months.
    As she and Clay signed the form, the wagon master came up to her. “Mrs. Elliott, I made it clear there can be no single women on the train.”
    She smiled. “I’m no longer single, Mr. Scott. Clayton and I are married.”
    “Is that true, Fraser?” Scott asked.
    She prayed Clay wouldn’t reveal how she had manipulated him into marrying her. If the truth got out, she’d be mortified.
    To her surprise, Clay slipped an arm around her shoulder.
    “Yes, sir. We were married last night. Rebecca and I are old friends. It was my surprise and pleasure to run into her here, of all places.”
    “You and your brother signed on as part of my crew, Fraser.”
    “I still intend to be, sir. Rebecca understands that.”
    “All right. Sure isn’t any way to spend a honeymoon, but congratulations. And I hope the two of you will be very happy.”
    As soon as they were outside, Rebecca said, “Thank you for not telling Mr. Scott the truth about our marriage.”
    “Well, it would have been just as embarrassing for me,” he muttured. “Let’s get those supplies.”
    Garth left to repair the front axle, while she and Clay purchased supplies. Rebecca had already prepared a long list and now increased the amount of several of the items, due to the addition of the two men, even though Clay informed her that the wagon master provided the food for his crewmembers.
    He also insisted upon looking over her list. “Do you have a warm coat?”
    “Of course. We have cold winters in Vermont, Clayton.”
    He gave her shoes a disdainful glance. “What about a sturdy pair of boots? The shoes you’re wearing are useless. There’ll be mud, mountains, and rivers to contend with.”
    “Mr. Fraser, it is not necessary for you to concern yourself about my wardrobe. I am quite capable of making those determinations myself. I have been doing so for most of my life.” Rebecca made a mental note to buy a pair of boots.
    By the time Garth finished the repair on the axle, they had accumulated the needed supplies. Then the three of them set to work loading the wagon with a camp stool and table, two hundred pounds of flour, a barrel of bacon packed in bran to prevent it from spoiling, one hundred and fifty pounds of coffee, twenty pounds of sugar, fifteen of salt, ten pounds of dried beans, and five pounds of hardtack. In addition, she’d bought ten jars of canned tomatoes, a gallon of molasses, a bushel of potatoes, a peck of onions, a bushel of apples, five pounds of dried peaches, baking soda, cornmeal, vinegar, rice, assorted spices, and a box of tea. Then there were the necessary items of soap, a few medicinal products, towels, dishcloths, bedding, a washbowl, chamber pot, wash boiler, a large kettle, a Dutch