Orchids in Moonlight by Patricia Hagan

never let them know about you."
    Martha agreed. "No. We kept your secret. Honest." She then went on to point out, "But you know you can't stay here by yourself, and if you go to Captain Austin now, he's not going to let you go with him and won't care what happens to you."
    Sounding braver than she felt, Jaime lifted her chin. "I'll find a way to get there somehow."
    Martha exchanged a worried look with Ruth before asking, "Well, what are you going to do now? Everybody is quitting the wagon train."
    "That's right." Ruth joined in. "There's nobody left for you to ride with."
    Jaime lowered her face to her hands and fought to keep from crying. After all she had been through, all the weeks and months of hiding, it had come to this.
    Just then Wilma Turnage poked her head through the opening in the laced canvas at the end of the wagon. By lantern light, she saw their faces and knew they had to be discussing Jaime's fate.
    Ruth confirmed it by telling her, "She won't say what she wants to do."
    In her no-nonsense way, Wilma snapped, "She has no choice. She's going with me and mine." To Jaime, she said, "Come along, child. Harry isn't sure where we're going, but you can go with us. We'll make sure you're looked after."
    Jaime wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. God, she was fed up with having no choices in her life. Once, on the trail sometime back, she had seen a team of horses spooked during a thunderstorm. They had run wildly across the plain with no aim or direction, galloping furiously to try and escape an unknown fear. By so doing, they had destroyed themselves. The driver had jumped in time, realizing there was no hope of bringing them under control before they ran off the edge of a precipice to certain death below.
    That was not going to happen to her, Jaime vowed. She was not going to run merely because something had happened she could not control. Somehow, some way, she would find an answer to her dilemma. Till then, she would have to endure as best she could.
    Finally lifting her head, she thanked Wilma quietly, then gathered what few belongings she had and followed her to her wagon.
    It was late when people finally bedded down. Jaime could not sleep, far too worried over her plight. Creeping out into the darkness, she made her way to the tiny stream where earlier the women had gathered to bathe themselves and their children in happy preparation for arriving in Salt Lake.
    Hearing voices, she ducked behind a large rock. She was about to turn back when she recognized Cord. She could tell he was fired up.
    "They signed on for the long haul. What I ought to do is put a bullet in them for desertion. That's what we did in the war, by damn,"
    "This ain't war, captain. And if you'd been on as many wagon trains as I have, you'd understand it happens all the time. Folks drop out. Change their minds. And they don't care who gets hurt when they do. And you can't blame the promised brides, neither. A husband is a husband, the way they see it, no matter where they find him."
    "Well, Jasper, at least you're here," Cord said.
    Jaime's heart slammed into her chest as the idea struck. The supply wagon. Of course! All she had to do was slip inside it and hide among the crates and barrels, and as soon as they were a little way down the road, she'd let her presence be known. They would have to take her on to California with them.
    By God, she told herself amid the thrilling rush, she was going to make it, after all.
    She heard Jasper say he had to go check on the animals; then came the sound of his footsteps fading in another direction. She tarried but a moment longer, wanting to make sure Cord was not coming her way. Then she turned and started quietly back, anxious to slip her satchel out of the Turnage wagon and settle into Jasper's. In the morning, Wilma would wonder what happened to her but not for long. Like everyone else, Wilma was excited and anxious to get to Salt Lake and would quickly forget all about her.
    * * *
    Cord was