we moved it out of the way so the herd wouldn’t trample it any further.”
“Rebecca,” Maummi called as she headed toward the trees. “Lend a hand, girl.”
Rebecca turned from her vantage point on the bank and followed. With a quick “Thank you” to Griff, Emma hurried after them.
Stuff was an appropriate description for the mound of clutter piled on a grassless embankment inside a small copse of trees. Emma stood, speechless, and stared at the havoc that had been made of their belongings. Everything had been uncrated, and the few breakable dishes Maummi had carefully wrapped for the journey lay in shards. A couple of the crates had been splintered.
Maummi crossed to the other side of the jumble to where her rocking chair lay on its side. She stood over it and peered downward. “Broken.”
Emma knelt and grasped the corner of a bed sheet between a thumb and forefinger. When she lifted it up, she spied several slashes in the fabric, as though it had been purposefully cut with a knife.
“Why are they so mean?” Rebecca tugged a black garment free of the rubble, and then another. Dresses. They had been similarly destroyed.
A frantic flutter began behind Emma’s breastbone. Had the thieves slashed Mama’s quilt to pieces? She bent over and began tossing things out of the way, searching for a glimpse of bright color or the thick bag in which she’d wrapped it. Nothing.
“Here’s something, anyway.” Rebecca lifted a heavy black skillet out of the wreckage and held it up for Maummi’s inspection.
The old lady’s scowl deepened. “Why could we not find it before we paid good money for a new one?”
Behind them, the volume of the cattle’s frightened mooing diminished, and Emma peeked through the trees. Another cow had been rescued and galloped after the other.
While Maummi began the task of separating the few usable items from the debris, Rebecca sidled over to her.
“Why did you run toward the wagon, Emma?” She spoke low enough that Maummi wouldn’t make out the words while her attention was elsewhere. “Did you think to hold it upright yourself when four men could not?”
Emma kept her eyes averted under the pretense of picking up a sadly bedraggled prayer kapp. “I didn’t think anything. I ran because…” She shrugged. “I don’t know.”
In the silence that followed, she formed an unspoken prayer of forgiveness for the blatant lie.
And for the alarming reason behind her foolish action.
When the last steer had been hauled out of the river, Luke climbed the bank and collapsed beside his men lying on the grass. The work had been exhausting, and as he lay beside Jesse, his muscles protested. Judging by the sounds of the moans coming from the others, his weren’t the only ones.
Jesse spoke without opening his eyes. “She’s staring at me.”
Luke turned his head to eye his friend. “Who?”
“The younger one. Been staring at me all afternoon. It’s starting to make me edgy.”
A glance toward the Switzers’ wagon revealed Rebecca standing by the bench, her face turned their way. “How do you know she’s not staring at me?”
“First of all, because I’m better lookin’ than you.” A weak chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Second of all, watch.”
Jesse rolled onto his side and propped up on one arm to look the girl in the face. Startled, she swung around and became suddenly busy fiddling with something on the wagon bench. Her shoulders shook with a girlish giggle.
“See? She’s spooking me.”
“Since when did a girl’s attention spook you?”
“Since the girl isn’t older than thirteen or fourteen. Add another five years and it would be a different story.” He drew in a sharp breath with a hiss when he rolled back around to face Luke. “I think I busted a gut on that dad gum wagon. Thing’s as heavy as a full-grown steer.”
“That reminds me.” Luke sat up and rested his arms on his knees. “I haven’t thanked you for saving my hide back there.”
“You’re welcome.” Wincing, Jesse rose to sit beside him. “So now I figure you owe me a steak dinner and a bottle of whiskey when we get to Hays.”
He chuckled. “You know I won’t buy your whiskey, but I’ll buy you a bath and a shave. How’s that?”
“That’s all your life’s worth? A bath and a shave?”
“Nope. I’m worth a five-dollar steak, not one of those cheap things you’d try and force on me.” He grinned sideways. “But you need a bath. You’re starting to smell so bad you’re scaring the herd.”
Jesse pointed at the river.