Wagon Train Sisters (Women of the West) by Shirley Kennedy Page B

gone, but as she stood surveying the spot where they’d slept, a gloomy desolation enveloped her. Last night she’d been in a man’s arms—something she’d never expected after her marriage to Joseph. She wanted nothing to do with men, and yet…Jack’s kiss had stirred a passion within her she’d long thought dead. Now he was gone forever, leaving her with a life filled with…what? Her books? Helping the sick and poor? Vast, empty years stretched ahead.
    “Good morning, Sarah.” Already dressed for the day, Ma climbed down from the wagon. “We’ll make a quick breakfast this morning. Your father wants to make a lot of miles today.” She sighed. “He’s going to have his hands full, having to do everything by himself.”
    “He should have thought of that before he told Mr. McCoy and Mr. Longren to leave.” If her answer was sharp, she didn’t care.
    “You know your father.”
    “At least he’s learned how to handle the animals.” Sarah gave her mother a reassuring smile. “We’re going to be fine. Maybe today we’ll catch up with the train.”
    “Frank is hell-bent on catching up, but how can we when we go so slow?” Luzena cast a resentful glance to where her husband was yoking the oxen. “Look at him—all thumbs, stumbling around like an idiot. It’ll be a miracle if we get there at all. And, no, I don’t think we’ll ever catch up with Mr. Morehead’s train. Frank was a fool to send Jack McCoy away.”
    Sarah’s gloom grew deeper, if that was possible. Ma never used to talk that way. Back in Indiana, she’d kept her husband on a pedestal, but not anymore. How sad to think their old life had disappeared forever, but it had, and there was no turning back. Even when they reached California, if they ever did, things would never be the same. With an effort, Sarah squared her shoulders. “It can’t be much farther, and then it’s all going to be fine. We’re going to find the train. We’ll keep looking for Florrie, and who knows? Yesterday we found a sign of her. I predict we’ll find another today, or soon.”
    Ma smiled and patted her cheek. “You’re such a good daughter. I know you’re trying to keep my spirits up, but, Sarah, I don’t know…” She glanced over at Pa who’d just finished hitching the oxen to the wagon and now stood exhausted and out of breath. “Look at him—tired already, and we’ve got the whole day ahead of us.” Her face went grim. “So here we are, all alone with no one to help us if something goes wrong, and I know it will.”
    Sarah searched for something cheerful to say, but nothing came to mind.
    * * * *
    They started the day’s trek under bright sunshine and a clear blue sky. By noon the temperature had dropped considerably. The fluffy white clouds that had gathered were soon replaced by the dark, low clouds that signaled an approaching storm. Late in the afternoon, they felt the first raindrops. Ma wanted to stop, but Pa was determined to keep going, rain or no rain. “We must catch up to the Morehead train.” The rain grew heavier, but Pa urged the oxen on. Sarah was riding Rosie, but when her horse started slipping in the mud, she dismounted and led both Rosie and their other horse, Titan. Pa kept going, even though the oxen were straining for all they were worth to move the wagon along the muddy road. To lighten the load, Ma climbed from the wagon and walked with Sarah, both growing colder, wetter, and more miserable as they went along. “Frank, you’ve got to stop,” Ma yelled.
    “Just a little farther!” Oblivious to the rain, Pa sat hunched on the wagon seat over the reins. “Don’t want to spend another night alone.”
    They stopped briefly to eat. The downpour made it impossible to build a fire, so they dined on beef jerky and hardtack, washed down with muddy water. To Sarah and Ma’s dismay, Pa insisted they start again. As the rain poured harder, the trail got worse, and the oxen started slipping in deep mud. When they came