of running water at their side.
A tickle of disquiet disturbed his solitude when the feel of the wind blowing in his face changed. The rich, wild scent of distant rain tinted the air. As long as the storm carried only rain, the herd wouldn’t pose a problem. But all too often storms along the plains were accompanied by fierce lightning and thunder, and that’s what startled the beef into a stampede two nights ago. Once a stampede occurred, cattle remained jittery and prone to stampede again for days or even weeks afterward. Another stampede would put them in risk of missing their deadline.
Bo galloped up over a swell in the land, and Luke’s feelings of disquiet deepened. Not a mile ahead he caught sight of the tail end of a herd. He’d have to wait until he was closer to spot the Triple Bar brand, but he felt sure these were his cattle. Jesse and the others must have waited around for him after fording the river because they had only gained a few miles all day.
The numb wits! Why didn’t they push on?
Immediately, his irritation fled. Luke had no one to blame but himself. The task of leading the herd didn’t fall to Jesse. He was the trail boss. The decision of when to move and when to tarry fell on Luke’s shoulders alone. And he hadn’t been here to direct them.
He caught sight of a cluster of horses and riders at the river’s edge up ahead. Hard to tell at this distance, but he thought they might be his men or it could be the location of Jonas’s wagon. He urged Bo into a faster pace.
When he arrived he found Jesse, Willie, Charlie, and Griff wet to the skin and covered in mud. They stood on the shore staring down at the Switzers’ wagon. Luke took in the problem in an instant. Two of the wagon’s wheels had made it up to the bank after crossing the river, though one rested in a muddy low rut. The back wheels were still partly immersed in mucky water, one deeper than the other. In the back of the wagon rested the biggest piece of furniture he’d ever seen. His ma used to have a hutch similar to this one, but only about half this size. Mrs. Switzer’s piece leaned at a precarious angle in the tilted wagon. A large trunk sat beside it, up toward the front of the wagon bed.
Jesse broke away from the others and approached when he rode up. Water plastered his shirt to his body, and his boots made an unpleasant squishing noise with each step. After a quick glance at the fury in his face, Luke decided to keep his seat and speak to his friend from a safe distance on horseback.
“That…thing!” Jesse spouted, waving a finger behind him in the direction of the wagon. “It weighs a thousand pounds. There’s no way that wagon’s coming out of the river with that monstrous chunk of oak inside.”
The others trailed over, looking as wet and bedraggled. Charlie affirmed Jesse’s opinion. “The back wheels are mired pretty deep, boss, one worse than the other. I think the axle might have cracked too.”
Luke looked past them, where the water lapped at the lowest boards at the rear of the wagon. Jesse might be exaggerating the weight of that hutch, but not by much if Luke was any judge. It looked to be solid oak, which meant the weight was probably close to six hundred pounds. If the wagon’s axle was broken, Jonas would have a hard time fixing it with the hutch inside. No way would he be able to unload and reload it by himself, or even get it out of the river on his own.
A thought occurred to Luke. He glanced behind him. The Switzers were not yet in sight. What if he left now, before they arrived? He’d done all he promised. Getting their wagon unstuck wasn’t his responsibility. When they got here they would find their hutch, and Luke would have done his duty.
Even as he considered giving his men the order to mount up and head out, he knew he couldn’t do it.
The sooner I get them on their way, the sooner I can get on mine.
“Where have you been, anyway?” Griff squinted suspiciously up at him. “Back in Gorham all this time?”
“I’ll tell you where he’s been.” Jesse unwrapped his bandana from his neck and made a show of squeezing out a