a day or two more and he'll be ready to fight," claimed Web. "He was near enough dead when I found him. Western men recover fast."
I didn't know if to believe him or not, but climbed up into the wagon and fell asleep beside Trahern, too tired to worry anymore. I had to be ready to ride herd in the morning.
He was still asleep when I woke up and climbed out to release the mules and saddle up Comfort. I must have woke him though, for when I came in he had a small fire going, coffee made and flapjacks cooking. We shared with Web who had been out scouting around and came in for a bite before he rode off again. I had forgotten the bean pot, but it had a cloth over it and it didn’t look like nothing had crawled in during the night, so I put it back inside.
Trahern was a quiet man, working with no wasted movements. His injuries had taken a lot out of him and he could do only so much and then had to stop to rest. Web helped him into the wagon again while I hitched up the mules and got ready to travel.
I planned to ride for a while, then go back and see to him. I was still exhausted from the past week, but the good breakfast had lifted my spirits a heap and if I could get a little more rest so as I didn't fall asleep driving, I knew I could make it. The mules were trail broke so well they followed the team in front of them without guidance—if only they would keep up. When we had been traveling an hour, I tied the reins up and climbed over into the back.
Trahern had his eyes open when I handed him the canteen that I had filled that morning from the water barrel. He sat up slowly and drank, thirsty, but careful not to spill any.
"Thanks, ma'am." His voice was hoarse, his eyes still swollen red from ant bites, large scabs and dark bruises evident where he had been severely beaten about the face. There was no way to tell what he really looked like.
"Would you like some more?"
"No. I'd best sleep. Get well so as I can help you. Don't want to make extry work for you."
"I'll leave this here. I have another, up front."
"Thanks," he replied, and I left him then and moved back forward, figuring he'd sleep better with me away.
A stranger he was; one I knew nothing about. Web wasn't very talkative, but maybe he would fill me in. He must’ve known Trahern from somewhere before they met out here. Or had he? What if he hadn't met him before; just figured anyone would be better than the lot I had to choose from?
The noon stop was brief and Web appeared with some sort of weed he'd found out on the prairie, with instructions for me to lay some on Trahern's wounds and later boil some up and make a potion to bathe them with. I carried the ugly looking weed into the wagon and looked at the sleeping man. Where was he wounded? Loathe to wake him while he was sleeping so well, I laid the weeds beside him and climbed back out.
That day the trail was fairly smooth as it followed the prairie road that ran towards Fort Kearney. We were traveling up the Little Blue, gradually, almost imperceptibly climbing in elevation all the time. It gave Trahern a better chance to recover, enough so he was able to climb out of the wagon by himself that evening and help me pull the wagon tongue around after unhitching the mules. Or maybe it was the weeds that he had put to his wounds while we traveled.
I protested, afraid he'd re-open something, but he moved carefully. "I'll take the mules out. How we fixed for food?"
"Nothing fresh," I admitted. "But I have flour; we can have beans and biscuits."
"Good. Got any pork rind?"
“Yes." I found him some and he hacked off a small slice with a long sharp knife I recognized as Uncle Dem's.
“Add that to the beans. Gives ‘em substance.” He left, leading the mules out to eat and I looked at the empty sling under the wagon. I had gathered no fuel during the day, dozing at the reins. I would have to hunt fuel before I could start a fire.
Madge Ashley looked up as I walked by their wagon and called me to her.
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