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turn.”
Connell’s eyebrows raised. “So that’s why you’re headed west by way of Sacramento City.”
Since they hadn’t yet come to the place where either of the trails to California branched off from the Oregon trail, she was surprised he knew. “Yes, but how…?”
“I’ve been asking around and keeping my ears open. Same as anybody could do. Chances are, Ramsey Tucker’s not the only one who’s heard about your papa’s good fortune by now, either.”
“Oh, dear.”
She grasped the wagon seat and held on tight while they jostled across an unusually rough area. The wagon creaked with the stress. Late spring rains and the passage of earlier wagons had left deep, uneven ruts. Now that drier weather had come, the roughness bound the wheel rims and put a twist on the wagon’s undercarriage that made it squeal in protest.
“I’ll work for found, ” Connell offered, expounding on his original offer. “You won’t be the first traveler to need extra help on the trail. Just feed me and give me a place under the wagon to sleep and we’ll call it even.”
“I couldn’t do that,” Faith said flatly. “It wouldn’t be fair to you. It’s been over a year since my father’s last letter home. We may not even be able to locate him when we reach California. I couldn’t guarantee any pay, even then.”
“I never asked for it,” he countered gruffly.
Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew the miniature of Irene and held it up. “See this woman? Her name is Irene Wellman. We’ve been friends since we were children. She disappeared on her way to marry me. I figure, if she was traveling with Tucker on his last trip, she probably mentioned my name plenty. That’s why I didn’t want you to use McClain. I don’t want anybody to get suspicious and shut up before they can spill useful information.”
Gently, reverently, Faith took the picture. The woman was young, in her early twenties from the look of it, and pretty in a plain sort of way.
“After my mother died,” Connell said, “I lived with Irene’s family for a few years and we grew close. She gave me that picture when we parted and we pledged to marry someday. I was sixteen and headed for the mountains to make my fortune trapping. By the time I finally sent for her, she’d decided her bounden duty was to help her father care for her invalid mother, instead.”
“What does all this have to do with me?” Faith asked.
“Irene and I kept in touch as best we could. After her parents both died she had no family left, so she finally wrote and agreed to come to California to join me. That was a year ago. Far as I can tell, she never reached Salt Lake. Nobody will admit to knowing what happened to her.”
“And you think Tucker may be responsible? Why?”
“Because he’s the most likely prospect I’ve come across, for starters. The only connections I’ve been able to come up with are the first initial of his last name and the funny way his drovers started acting when I was asking about Irene. I know it isn’t much to go on, but it’s all I have. I need this job so I’ll be in a position to learn more.”
Faith gave back the miniature, sighed and turned to face the west where heaven-knows-what awaited her. How awful not to know for sure what had happened to a loved one. Was wondering worse than knowing the worst? She thought it might be.
Her mind made up, Faith held out her hand. “All right. Shake on it,” she said. “You’re hired.”
As soon as there was an easy opportunity to do so, Connell pulled the Beal wagon out of line. Halting the team, he called to Rojo. The gelding responded by obediently trotting up.
“You’ll ride him for a while,” Connell said, climbing down and holding out his hand for Faith to follow.
“There’s no need.”
He gritted his teeth. Why did she have to be so proud? “It’s not a favor, it’s common sense,” he argued. “You don’t weigh as much as a good-size calf, the horse is making
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