at the entrance to the mercantile. Too many, she thought. Something, besides everyday trade, must be going on.
Rainey pushed back through the brush and into the shadows of live oaks growing near the creek. This had been her refuge since she arrived almost a week ago, and the clearing was starting to feel like home. The branches, newly green, formed a roof and the rocks were her furniture. The few belongings she had were safely hidden away in her traveling bag behind a fallen log.
She’d paid for passage on a freight wagon, but asked to be let off before they reached the trading post. She wanted time to study the place before going into the little settlement. A woman alone needed to be careful. She’d watched those coming and going, waiting for the right people to travel on with before announcing herself. She had one more leg to her journey, or at least she hoped there would be only one more stop. When she’d reached Galveston, she’d thought to settle there, but the town was wild, and the only boardinghouse for women that she’d found had been loud and dirty. Though her money was getting dangerously low, she didn’t bother to look for work in Galveston.
Rainey also knew that if her father followed her, the coastal town would be his first stop. She would be safer to journey inland. She’d met several families on the ship from New Orleans, and most of them were moving north, traveling with the freighters or spacing their wagons between them for safety.
One older driver, with hands crippled up from years of holding the reins on a mule team, offered her a ride as far as the Anderson Trading Post if she’d do all the cooking when they camped and pay for half of the food. She kept her bargain. He ate most of the food as they traveled north dropping off families at farms and settlements along the way. By the time they reached the Anderson Trading Post, she’d been his last company to leave.
The old freighter insisted she take a blanket and half the remaining food. He also offered her a pistol, but Rainey refused.
She’d waved goodbye to him, then disappeared into the trees at the last bend in the road before the trading post. By the time she’d worked her way through the brush to where she could see the post clearly, the freighter had unloaded and was heading back south. She’d almost waved him down and asked for a ride back to the nearest town, but he’d told her the fort lay three or four days further and he’d heard one of the officer’s wives was sickly and had been asking for a nurse. He’d made her promise to wait until a group of wagons was heading that direction because he claimed one wagon alone wouldn’t be safe from this point on.
Rainey agreed. And thanked him for the help. She knew nothing of nursing, but she had taught school since she was thirteen and figured it was time to give nursing a try. That is, if she could get to the fort and if the poor woman were still alive and in need of a nurse.
Frowning, Rainey sat on a rock a few feet from the stream. The if s in her life were starting to outnumber the maybes , and that was never good news.
Last night, at the dance, she’d had a clear plan. She picked out a good horse, borrowed it without anyone seeing, and hid it near the stream. After dawn, she hoped to blend in with the eight wagons heading north. The German farmers would be miles away before they noticed they had a stranger among them. If she was lucky, they might even think someone in their party had invited her. She’d played that game to get on the boat from New Orleans and had been surprised at how well it worked.
But this morning nothing worked as she planned. She’d overslept. The horse wandered off and was nowhere in sight. The Germans must have left before dawn. Bad luck followed her like a hungry mouse running toward the smell of ripe cheese. Maybe she should develop a new strategy and plan to fail; surely then she’d succeed at something besides making a mess of her
Rainey pushed back through the brush and into the shadows of live oaks growing near the creek. This had been her refuge since she arrived almost a week ago, and the clearing was starting to feel like home. The branches, newly green, formed a roof and the rocks were her furniture. The few belongings she had were safely hidden away in her traveling bag behind a fallen log.
She’d paid for passage on a freight wagon, but asked to be let off before they reached the trading post. She wanted time to study the place before going into the little settlement. A woman alone needed to be careful. She’d watched those coming and going, waiting for the right people to travel on with before announcing herself. She had one more leg to her journey, or at least she hoped there would be only one more stop. When she’d reached Galveston, she’d thought to settle there, but the town was wild, and the only boardinghouse for women that she’d found had been loud and dirty. Though her money was getting dangerously low, she didn’t bother to look for work in Galveston.
Rainey also knew that if her father followed her, the coastal town would be his first stop. She would be safer to journey inland. She’d met several families on the ship from New Orleans, and most of them were moving north, traveling with the freighters or spacing their wagons between them for safety.
One older driver, with hands crippled up from years of holding the reins on a mule team, offered her a ride as far as the Anderson Trading Post if she’d do all the cooking when they camped and pay for half of the food. She kept her bargain. He ate most of the food as they traveled north dropping off families at farms and settlements along the way. By the time they reached the Anderson Trading Post, she’d been his last company to leave.
The old freighter insisted she take a blanket and half the remaining food. He also offered her a pistol, but Rainey refused.
She’d waved goodbye to him, then disappeared into the trees at the last bend in the road before the trading post. By the time she’d worked her way through the brush to where she could see the post clearly, the freighter had unloaded and was heading back south. She’d almost waved him down and asked for a ride back to the nearest town, but he’d told her the fort lay three or four days further and he’d heard one of the officer’s wives was sickly and had been asking for a nurse. He’d made her promise to wait until a group of wagons was heading that direction because he claimed one wagon alone wouldn’t be safe from this point on.
Rainey agreed. And thanked him for the help. She knew nothing of nursing, but she had taught school since she was thirteen and figured it was time to give nursing a try. That is, if she could get to the fort and if the poor woman were still alive and in need of a nurse.
Frowning, Rainey sat on a rock a few feet from the stream. The if s in her life were starting to outnumber the maybes , and that was never good news.
Last night, at the dance, she’d had a clear plan. She picked out a good horse, borrowed it without anyone seeing, and hid it near the stream. After dawn, she hoped to blend in with the eight wagons heading north. The German farmers would be miles away before they noticed they had a stranger among them. If she was lucky, they might even think someone in their party had invited her. She’d played that game to get on the boat from New Orleans and had been surprised at how well it worked.
But this morning nothing worked as she planned. She’d overslept. The horse wandered off and was nowhere in sight. The Germans must have left before dawn. Bad luck followed her like a hungry mouse running toward the smell of ripe cheese. Maybe she should develop a new strategy and plan to fail; surely then she’d succeed at something besides making a mess of her
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