Free Unconquerable Callie by DeAnn Smallwood

back to the wagon and wedged it carefully between barrels. A cup of coffee, warm or cold, during the day would go far in keeping her alert.
    The train didn’t make it out at the crack of dawn. It was a good hour past before some semblance of order was formed. Seth McCallister rode at the front of the train, his hand raised to the sky and his voice loud and strong.
    “Wagon’s Ho.”

Chapter 11
    Through all the mishaps of that day, Seth kept the train steadily moving. Though unseasoned and untried, this group would prove to be one of the better band of folks he’d lead West. There were early signs of unity and a spirit of cooperation and kindheartedness that permeated as the wagons circled for the night.
    Folks called to each other from campfire to campfire and several families put their meals together to enjoy a variety of cooking and some much needed conversation. They would draw strength from one another and, from this, have the fortitude to go on each day. He knew that it wouldn’t take long for them to realize they were only as good as the whole.
    He’d joined one such dinner. He was usually glad to accept these frequent invitations knowing that what they had to offer would beat eating his own cooking. Left on his own, his meals consisted of warmed-up beans and maybe some fried potatoes or bacon, if he had it. Game was often plentiful and he and Henry tried to keep the camp in fresh meat. He knew he contributed more to the train’s larder than he took away.
    But tonight, he wished he hadn’t felt obligated to accept the invitation. Not that he wasn’t hungry. He was. But he was tired, not the physical tiredness that a good night’s sleep would cure, but mentally exhausted. The strain of the day pulled at him and he wanted nothing more than to throw his bedroll into a secluded area, and enjoy the solitude of his own campfire. He was worn out with talking, explaining, riding from one calamity to another, trying to be everywhere at once. This was typical for the first few days of any wagon train, where twenty wagons and even more people seemed to be pulling in opposite directions. Still, they’d made more miles than he’d expected. Tomorrow would be better, and each day after that, too. If the weather held out and no obstacles came in their path for the next week or so, they’d season quickly and be better able to meet the dangers that were sure to come.
    Seth neared the group. Some of the men were eating, while several of the women dished up plates from blackened pots hanging over the fire. Everywhere, he was greeted by smiles and friendly hellos. He had quickly earned the respect of the wagon train. He’d had an answer for every problem, a willing back, and extra pair of hands for the hardest tasks.
    He took a seat and a plate of food. He figured he’d take bites of the savory stew and be on his way.
    “I seem to be offering you a cup of coffee starting and finishing the day, Mr. McCallister.”
    He looked up into the smiling face of Callie Collins. Her emerald green eyes sparkled even though lines of fatigue etched her lovely face. Her dress bore the trail’s dirt and her boots were scuffed. Yet she had been one of the few wagons able to follow his directions without accident or delay. Callie had not only kept up, but several times he saw her carrying a young child or coaxing one of the women to take a rest on the seat on her wagon.
    “I wouldn’t refuse one, that’s for sure.” He took the cup from her hand, and started to rise, offering her the rock where he’d been sitting.
    “Have you ate?” he asked.
    “No, and please sit down. To tell the truth, I’m wanting my bed more than I’m wanting food. I’m sure I’ll toughen as the days go on, but tonight your order to circle the wagons almost brought tears of joy to my eyes.”
    A grin brightened his face. “That bad, huh?”
    She nodded. “Can I get you something else? More stew?”
    “Well, there is something. I’d like another biscuit if