his face wreathed in smiles.
“Spied the Missouri.” The few words were like magic. The tiredness washed from Callie’s body and her feet felt lighter, able to cover the remaining distance with ease. Caleb grinned back at her as he grabbed Charlie up and hoisted him to his shoulders.
“Cry out when you see it, Charlie,” Caleb said, hooking his hands around Charlie’s skinny legs.
Charlie’s back stiffened. “I’m a scout, Caleb. Just like Mr. Henry. You’re my horse, huh, Caleb?” The boy giggled.
Caleb’s whinny and accompanying hop-skip was all Charlie needed to send him into peals of laughter.
A sense of serenity coursed through Callie. She laughed at Caleb’s antics and Charlie’s enjoyment of his new role and steed.
In the distance, Callie saw a rider approaching the train. He was too far off to distinguish, but Callie knew it was Seth. She swallowed down the flutter in her throat and told herself her she was only looking forward to hearing his news, and to circling the wagons for the night.
Within minutes, the dusty man pulled up alongside her. He took off his hat and swatted it against his leg. His horse was lathered and the smell of sweat and horseflesh filled her nose. The animal’s sides heaved with each breath.
Callie stepped to the side and her wagon rumbled past. She didn’t break the silence, waiting for Seth to catch his breath. Then the high-pitched voice of Charlie rang out, bringing a smile to Callie’s and the tired man’s face.
“I see it. I see it. Callie!” Charlie cried out, turning around on Caleb’s shoulders to find her. “Callie, I see the Missouri. I see it for us, don’t I?”
“You sure do, Charlie,” Callie called back. “You are an excellent scout.”
Charlie’s head bobbed and he turned back, pleased with his accomplishment.
“New scout?” Seth asked, smiling down at her.
“Just hired him on today,” Callie joked. “He’s dependable and has keen eyesight.”
“That’s important.” His tender look made their conversation irrelevant. A cocoon of silence wrapped around them, blocking out anything or anyone else.
Then he gently nudged his horse forward with his heels. And, touching his fingers to his hat, he gruffly said, “I’ll see you after supper.”
The sun moved behind a cloud in the cloudless sky as he rode down the trail. He’d taken the sunshine with him, and a maybe a piece of her heart.
Chapter 16
“Well, folks.” Seth’s voice rang out in the evening twilight. He stood, coffee cup in hand, aware of each face; the people who depended on him. “Good news and bad. The scows are charging fifty cents a wagon to ferry you across.”
Murmurs followed.
“Fifty cents is pretty steep for some of us, Seth.” Concern laced the words.
“I know,” Seth replied. “Now here’s the good.” He tried to smile, but the effort was wasted. The situation was serious. “Those of you who want and can pay the fifty cents will load your wagons on the scows. For those of you who aren’t familiar with the word”—he paused—“scows are nothing more than a large flat boat. We’ll put the wagon on and block the wheels with wood so it won’t roll off. There’ll be room to ride on the scow, but horses, cows, and oxen will have to swim for it.”
“We’re waiting for the good news, Seth,” someone called from the crowd.
“I’m getting to it.” A weary smile creased his face. “It’s possible to build a raft. We can tie willow branches together and cut some of the rushes to put on top. Then we’d roll the wagon onto the raft and ferry it across the river.” Silence filled the air as each person mulled over the choices.
“There’s another way,” Seth said slowly. “We can seal the wagons.”
“Seal them? What do you mean by seal them?” several people asked at once.
Seth waited for the clamor to die down before continuing. “We seal the wagons tight by filling in all the cracks with tar or candle wax mixed with ashes.
“Spied the Missouri.” The few words were like magic. The tiredness washed from Callie’s body and her feet felt lighter, able to cover the remaining distance with ease. Caleb grinned back at her as he grabbed Charlie up and hoisted him to his shoulders.
“Cry out when you see it, Charlie,” Caleb said, hooking his hands around Charlie’s skinny legs.
Charlie’s back stiffened. “I’m a scout, Caleb. Just like Mr. Henry. You’re my horse, huh, Caleb?” The boy giggled.
Caleb’s whinny and accompanying hop-skip was all Charlie needed to send him into peals of laughter.
A sense of serenity coursed through Callie. She laughed at Caleb’s antics and Charlie’s enjoyment of his new role and steed.
In the distance, Callie saw a rider approaching the train. He was too far off to distinguish, but Callie knew it was Seth. She swallowed down the flutter in her throat and told herself her she was only looking forward to hearing his news, and to circling the wagons for the night.
Within minutes, the dusty man pulled up alongside her. He took off his hat and swatted it against his leg. His horse was lathered and the smell of sweat and horseflesh filled her nose. The animal’s sides heaved with each breath.
Callie stepped to the side and her wagon rumbled past. She didn’t break the silence, waiting for Seth to catch his breath. Then the high-pitched voice of Charlie rang out, bringing a smile to Callie’s and the tired man’s face.
“I see it. I see it. Callie!” Charlie cried out, turning around on Caleb’s shoulders to find her. “Callie, I see the Missouri. I see it for us, don’t I?”
“You sure do, Charlie,” Callie called back. “You are an excellent scout.”
Charlie’s head bobbed and he turned back, pleased with his accomplishment.
“New scout?” Seth asked, smiling down at her.
“Just hired him on today,” Callie joked. “He’s dependable and has keen eyesight.”
“That’s important.” His tender look made their conversation irrelevant. A cocoon of silence wrapped around them, blocking out anything or anyone else.
Then he gently nudged his horse forward with his heels. And, touching his fingers to his hat, he gruffly said, “I’ll see you after supper.”
The sun moved behind a cloud in the cloudless sky as he rode down the trail. He’d taken the sunshine with him, and a maybe a piece of her heart.
Chapter 16
“Well, folks.” Seth’s voice rang out in the evening twilight. He stood, coffee cup in hand, aware of each face; the people who depended on him. “Good news and bad. The scows are charging fifty cents a wagon to ferry you across.”
Murmurs followed.
“Fifty cents is pretty steep for some of us, Seth.” Concern laced the words.
“I know,” Seth replied. “Now here’s the good.” He tried to smile, but the effort was wasted. The situation was serious. “Those of you who want and can pay the fifty cents will load your wagons on the scows. For those of you who aren’t familiar with the word”—he paused—“scows are nothing more than a large flat boat. We’ll put the wagon on and block the wheels with wood so it won’t roll off. There’ll be room to ride on the scow, but horses, cows, and oxen will have to swim for it.”
“We’re waiting for the good news, Seth,” someone called from the crowd.
“I’m getting to it.” A weary smile creased his face. “It’s possible to build a raft. We can tie willow branches together and cut some of the rushes to put on top. Then we’d roll the wagon onto the raft and ferry it across the river.” Silence filled the air as each person mulled over the choices.
“There’s another way,” Seth said slowly. “We can seal the wagons.”
“Seal them? What do you mean by seal them?” several people asked at once.
Seth waited for the clamor to die down before continuing. “We seal the wagons tight by filling in all the cracks with tar or candle wax mixed with ashes.
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