“What are you doin’, lass, standin’ out in the dark?” her father called. “Come on and join us!”
Kate gathered what she could of her composure, deposited the pail of water by the wagon, and walked quickly to the fire. She ducked her head, hoping that her flaming cheeks wouldn’t show in the dim evening light. What was she thinking, staring at a young man like that? Her throat constricted in embarrassment.
“Have you met our fine scouts yet, Katie?” her father asked. She could only shake her head. “Then let me introduce you to Jacob Munroe and Sebastian Baker. Lads, this is my daughter, Kate McGrath.”
“Pleased to meet you, Miss McGrath,” Jacob said, his voice rich and soft.
Sebastian echoed his words, and Kate glanced up just long enough to acknowledge the two young men, one built like an oak tree and the other like a sapling willow, finding her voice in time to respond with a quiet “Good evenin’, gentlemen” before settling on the ground beside her father. Relief washed over her when the conversation resumed to a general discussion of the conditions of the trail. She let out a breath.
Kate started slightly when she discovered Andrew sitting quietly next to her. She shouldn’t have been surprised, really, as he came by almost every evening, but she blushed again when he looked over at her, studying her. She put a hand to her warm cheek. How many times can a person blush in one evening? She sat tall and clasped her hands in her lap in what she hoped was the picture of Ma’s “demure and composed young woman” and tried very hard to pay attention to the conversation around the fire.
Between Pa’s questions on available land along the trail and Danny’s questions on horsemanship, Ma uncovered who they were as people. She knew just what questions to ask to lessen the tension of awkward first meetings and to get folks to talk about things beyond just the weather or the best breed of cattle. She would probe gently yet deeply, andyou would find yourself sharing things you wouldn’t normally talk to strangers about, and understanding more about your own thoughts and yearnings than you knew you had in you. Even the rather surly Sebastian loosened up.
On the edges of the conversation, Kate learned a lot about the two dashing young scouts of their wagon train. Sebastian was a young man who thought very highly of himself and could probably be agreeable if it pleased him, but he kept himself behind high walls built of a practiced nonchalance.
Jacob did most of the talking. He had an easy way of conversing, relaxed and confident but not arrogant, immediately endearing himself to others and making it seem as if you’d known him for years. He seemed to have a deep understanding of people and what made them tick. Kate observed the way he talked with the different members of her family: joking with her brothers, respectful and friendly with her father, and particularly considerate and gracious with her mother. Kate watched in admiration as he quickly built a foundation of relationship with each person. How someone could talk so easily with people they didn’t know was beyond her.
The conversation slowly turned contemplative, and Kate learned that the obvious bond of brotherhood between Sebastian and Jacob was forged in the dirty, poverty-stricken, disease-ridden slums of St. Louis. Her heart ached for them. It sounded like a terrible place to grow up. She watched the faces of the two men. Sebastian’s was a mask of studied indifference, but he stopped talking altogether, lighting another of his cigarettes and stuffing his left hand in his armpit, no doubt trying to hide the two missing fingers on that hand. Kate wondered if he really didn’t care or if he just worked incredibly hard not to care.
Jacob was a different story. He tried to lighten the subject matter by recounting humorous stories of the colorful characters that peppered the streets, but his eyes were full of sorrow. He didn’t mention any familyat all. She wondered what had happened to them, if they were even still alive. Kate’s heart hurt for these young men, barely older than she, who had experienced more heartache by the time they were ten than she might experience in her lifetime. And yet Jacob still smiled. Those experiences seemed to have made him care all the more for those around him. He seemed a remarkable young man to have lived through all that yet not hardened his heart.
They excused themselves, stating they had more people to meet this evening. Kate watched them go, wanting them to stay, wanting to get to know them more. Well, to be perfectly honest, wanting to get to know Jacob more. She watched them walk away. “What remarkable gentlemen they are,” she mused softly.
“They sure brought their charm tonight,” Andrew muttered.
“Don’t you like them?”
“They put on quite the show.”
“Really?”
“Let’s just say they aren’t so kindly when there’s no womenfolk around.”
She furrowed her brow. Did she misjudge them completely? Were the outriders really just showmen, out to please people to gain their trust and get their way? Jacobwasawfully charming. Could there be an ulterior motive behind it all? She glanced at Andrew’s rigid expression. He obviously had reason not to like them. Kate quelled the little flutters in her heart, knowing her dreaminess could get the better of her, vowing to reserve her judgment until she knew more. But oh, those eyes. She’d never be able to forget those eyes.
Chapter 7
Kate’shandswerechafedand blistered and sore. She alternated holding the lines in one hand, resting the other in her lap, gently clenching and releasing to ease the ache and keep the blisters from bonding and ripping open. She stretched her palm and winced. At least it was their turn at the front of the train. To be relatively free of the choking dust for one day was a special pleasure.
She glanced up as a rider passed, and a smile split her face as she saw her father, dirty and worn, riding his horse in an easy jog that spoke of years in the saddle. As he pulled abreast of her perch on the hard wagon bench, he called out, “How’re those hands of yours, lass?”
“Sure and they hurt a bit, but nothin’ this lass can’t handle!” she called back, warmly mimicking his Irish lilt.
“That’s me girl!” he replied, and even through the dust caked on his face, she could see the affectionate wink he gave her as he pulled forward. She grinned and waved in response.
Kate watched his strong back as he rocked with the gait of his horse, grateful that he had finally decided to leave settled lands behind and strike out with their family to make a place all their own. They were so alike, the two of them, so stubborn and wild. It’s a wonder that Ma survived with the both of them to contend with. Kate smiled again. But they both loved with all they had, her father and her, and that must make up forsomething.
Her father pulled up beside Proctor. Everyone said the trail master could take weeks off the trek to Oregon, well ahead of the first snow. How he did that Kate didn’t know, but from the angry curl of his massive shoulders and the constant scowl on his face, she figured it wasn’t thoughts of the settlers’ safe arrival that spurred him on.
Kate saw Pa speaking with Proctor. As the conversation went on, she watched as her father’s back stiffened and jaw clenched, and she could just make out the intensity of their voices, the tension palpable from where she sat. Finally, her father turned to ride back down the train, a deep frown on his face.
“Pa,” she called out. He stopped and turned. “What was that all about?”
Glancing up, he furrowed his brow. “I asked if we could stop for Sundays, the Lord’s Day, for a day of rest.”
“And?”
“And he said we could, if we made up for it on other days.”
