Free Clay by Ana Leigh Page B

know.”
    Drat, he was right! She could have set the dough yesterday morning and baked the bread last night. But he was the last one she’d ever admit that to.
    Within minutes he had a fire going and had lain down again. Rebecca got her bread baking, and then put a pot of coffee on to brew. She still had plenty of time to cook breakfast.
    When she saw the VonDiemans were up and about, she went over to their wagon and got a small pitcher of milk from them, then returned to cook oatmeal and fry bacon.
    An hour later Rebecca and the two men sat down to a breakfast of hot oatmeal and milk, fried bacon, freshly baked bread, and mugs of hot coffee. The bread was a little well done on the outside, but it was only her first attempt to bake bread in a reflector oven. She was confident the next time it would be perfect.
    All in all, her second meal was as delicious as the first one she had prepared, which bolstered her confidence. Rebecca was so proud of herself, she almost popped the buttons off her bodice.
    Arms akimbo, she struck a pose. “So, Captain Fraser, what do you think?”
    “You can call me Clay,” he said, generously spreading orange marmalade over the last slice of bread.
    “Of the breakfast?” she persisted.
    “It wasn’t bad.”
    “It was darn good, and you know it.”
    “The bread was a little overdone.”
    “Yes, I noticed you actually had to chew it, instead of inhaling it like you did the rest of the food.”
    Garth snorted with laughter, and Clay reluctantly grinned. “It was good,” he allowed.
    “We’ll just see how well I can do on this journey, Clayton Fraser,” Rebecca murmured as she watched him ride away. “And I hope you like the taste of crow, because you’ll be eating a lot more of it before this is over.”

7

    Promptly at seven the wagons up front began moving on. Rebecca finished hitching up the team and climbed up on the box.
    Once again she had no trouble with the mules. She had given each one a name, and talked to it sweetly as she fed the animal a slice of apple before she harnessed it to the wagon. None of them had balked or tried to kick and bite, like some of the other mules were doing.
    With a slight flick of the reins, they moved forward like trained trotters, following the Garson wagon. Rebecca couldn’t help smiling, wondering if some sweet talk and a slice of apple would be as effective on Clay.
    All along the line she could see women and children walking beside their wagons. As the hours wore on, she wished she could join them, just to have relief from the reins.
    Mike Scott came riding down the line talking to each family, and when he reached her wagon, he greeted her warmly.
    “Any problems here, Mrs. Fraser?”
    “No, everything’s just fine, Mr. Scott.” She tried to sit up straight, and grimaced with pain.
    “Are you okay, ma’am?”
    “Yes, just a little stiff. I’ll be glad when we rest for lunch.”
    He frowned. “I see.” Then he glanced skyward. “Sky’s clouding up. Hope we aren’t in for rain.”
    “Do we stop if it does?” she asked hopefully.
    “I’m afraid not. We’ll be driving through thunderstorms, dust storms, sandstorms, and possibly even blizzards before we reach California. It takes some powerfully wicked weather to stop a wagon train, Mrs. Fraser. Lost time is our worst enemy.” He nodded, and then rode on to the next wagon.
    When they stopped for lunch, Rebecca didn’t feel like eating. She drank a cup of water and ate an apple, then stretched out to try and relax her back. As she lay in the shade of the wagon, she wondered how long it would take for her body to adjust to the driving. All too soon it was time to get going again.
    Shortly after they were under way, Henrietta Garson came back to her wagon and offered to drive it for a while.
    “Have you driven mules before, Henrietta?”
    “Oh, yes. On the farm.” The girl climbed up beside her and took the reins. “And call me Etta, Mrs. Fraser. That’s what my family does.