Dorothy Garlock by Annie Lash Read Free Book Online

friend wouldn’t leave without the girl. The other part of his mind wondered how she would adapt to life at the homestead. She seemed to be a calm, sensible woman. He couldn’t imagine Zan taking to a woman who was a flibbertigibbet. But would she and Callie take to each other? If she hated the isolation, would she make life miserable for Callie? He glanced down at the hands clasped tightly around the bundle she held in her lap. She was used to having people around, watching the comings and goings on the river. Would she become dissatisfied and want to come back? He was glad when Zan spoke and interrupted his thoughts.
    “Hit’s been a right smart spell since I been aridin’ a wagon. I’d a heap druther be takin’ to my feet or aridin’ a horse.”
    “I agree.” Jeff sailed a short whip out over the backs of the horses and urged them to pick up speed. “I’m not partial to riding the river or bouncing on a wagon, either. But it’s easier to haul by wagon up to the Missouri than to pole against the current on the big river.”
    “Hit makes sense.”
    “A neighbor, Silas Cornick, and one of his boys came down with me. They left late yesterday with another wagonload of supplies. They’ll have it unloaded and on the raft by the time we get there. We’ll pole up to Saint Charles, then load again onto wagons for the rest of the trip home.”
    “This ain’t yore rig?” Zan asked the question while Annie Lash was trying to sort out the puzzle.
    “It belongs to a friend, Fain MacCartney, who lives about five miles north of the mouth of the river. Isaac, Silas Cornick’s son, and I will take them back tonight.”
    “I heard ’bout that MacCartney feller, but I ain’t met up with ’im. Gunsmith, ain’t he?”
    “One of the best I’ve run across. He made my rifle. I’ll put it up against any I’ve seen. Even that old blunderbuss you carry around,” he added and tossed Zan a grin.
    “Wal . . .” Zan leaned out and spit over the side of the wagon. “One a these days we’ll have us a little match an’ jist see ’bout it.”
    Annie Lash was glad to sit back and listen to the men talk. She could give her mind over to looking and seeing. The sun was just coming up and the whole sky was flushed with a warm, rosy light. It lay over the land, and beneath it the grass was silver from the rain of the night before. A great owl, patrolling the border between the forest and the river, swooped low over the wagon and she could almost feel the stir of the air from the slow beat of its silent wings.
    At first, the trail was flat and wound between the giant oaks and ash that bordered the river, but as they penetrated farther north it became rougher and higher with short sweeps of meadow in between. High above, a pair of hawks circled in amorous pursuit of each other, squirrels scampered in the underbrush and raced for a tree trunk to scold the intruders from their lofty perch. A flock of colorful parakeets dipped and dived before settling in the top of a giant tree. As the wagon lurched along, there were occasional glimpses of the river, tearing through the dense woods on its seaward course.
    Sitting there on the high seat of the wagon, Annie Lash began to feel a strong sense of well-being. She was a part of this vitality, this vast land, this movement into the wilderness. She was sure Zan felt it, too. He had an eager, lively look on his face, and the tone of his voice as he talked with Jeff held more enthusiasm than she had heard in a long while.
    The day passed quickly. They stopped every few hours to rest the horses and to let them drink. Zan always helped her down from the wagon, although they both knew she was quite capable of getting down on her own. Jefferson Merrick was distantly polite, seldom looking directly at her, but she noticed his eyes were continuously moving, searching, even as he squatted beside a stream to drink. Once he caught her looking at him and it made her feel foolish and awkward,