Clay by Ana Leigh Page A

oven, a reflector oven, a coffeepot, teapot, a frying pan, a three-legged spider skillet, tin tableware, candles and molds, two lanterns, and cooking and eating utensils. At the last moment Rebecca had remembered to buy a mirror, a clock, pins, needles, thread, and a pair of scissors.
    While she concentrated on the stores and cookware, Clay took care of the hatchet, some standard hand tools, a couple of buckets, rope, and extra harness and rein. By the time they finished loading it all, the wagon and storage boxes were filled to capacity, with just enough room remaining for their clothing to be put into the inside box. One final but critical purchase remained—a rifle and ammunition.
    “Can you fire a rifle?” Clay asked Rebecca.
    “No,” she said.
    “I should have guessed.” He walked away, disgusted.
    Garth grinned at her. “I’m afraid to ask, Becky. Have you ever driven a mule team?”
    She shook her head.
    He shoved his hat up on his forehead. “How in the world did you expect to make this trip alone?”
    “I’ve driven a team of horses before,” she said.
    “Mules can’t be much different.”
    “Becky, mules are nothing like horses. They’re about the most stubborn animal you can encounter.”
    “Worse than your brother?”
    Garth grinned. “You have no idea. If they don’t want to move, they won’t. And they’re mean as hell.”
    “Worse than your brother?” she repeated, tongue in cheek, and broke into laughter.
    “You have the wrong impression about Clay, Becky,” he said, turning serious. “I love him dearly and I’m proud to call him brother. He’s a little down on women right now, but he’s not unreasonable. He’s always been fair-minded, understanding, and I’ve never known him to bear grudges, no matter what he might say or how it appears to the contrary. My sister and brothers and I have always looked to Clay for advice whenever we’ve had a problem. He’s a good listener, and he puts the interests of the people he loves above his own. So I’m hoping the two of you can work out this situation enough to make the trip bearable. It’s going to be hard enough, without the two of you at each other’s throats. I’ll do my best to try and ease the strain, but you’ve got to do your part, too, Becky.” Then he grinned. “Now, let’s get back to the problem of those damn mules.”
    “I know I can handle them, Garth. I’ve always been quick to learn, and there isn’t anything I can’t do once I put my mind to it,” she said confidently.
    “I don’t doubt that, judging by how you roped Clay into marriage, honey. You might be wiser not mentioning this to him, so sit down, and I’ll start you out with the basics.”
    Rebecca smiled at him. She’d found an ally in Garth Fraser—even if he was a Johnny Reb. It was hard to remember her hatred for them when she was with him. He was patient and understanding—too nice to dislike. But no matter what Garth said, his brother was just the opposite. It was going to be a long few months.
    By the time Garth left, Clay had not returned from purchasing the rifle and ammunition, so Becky went to the cobbler shop and bought a pair of boots.
    Returning to her hotel room, she sat down on the bed and counted her money. She had just over a hundred dollars remaining. Rebecca lay back on the pillow. She hoped it would last through the rest of the trip.
     
    Awakened by a tapping on the door, she bolted to a sitting position. The room was in darkness, and it took her several seconds to get oriented before she realized the tapping was coming from the connecting door between the rooms.
    “Who is it?”
    “Clay.”
    “Just a moment.”
    Rebecca got up and lit the lamp. It was dark outside, and she realized that she must have slept for hours. She unlocked the door and Clay came into the room.
    “Aren’t you going to the dance?”
    “The dance! Oh, my, I’d forgotten all about it. Maybe you and Garth should go on without me.”
    “Garth