Free Dorothy Garlock by The Searching Hearts Page A

Lone Buck Garrett is a breed.”
    The smile left Laura’s face, and she turned toward Lottie. “And . . . what does that mean, Lottie?”
    “It means ’is pa or ’is ma was part Injun, that’s what it means.”
    “I knew that. It also means his grandma or his grandpa was part Indian. But what’s that got to do with him? I suspect all of us are part something or the other.”
    “I ain’t a holdin’ it agin ’im. I was just a tellin’ ya, that’s all.”
    “All right. So you’ve told me.”
    Tucker looked with surprise at Laura’s tight features. It wasn’t like her to be so belligerent. “Lottie didn’t mean it was anything against Mr. Garrett, Laura. She thought it might help me to describe what he looks like.”
    “She could have said he had one feather in his hat instead of two!”
    “Laura!”
    There was silence among the women for several minutes before Laura said, “I’m sorry, Tucker. He was kind and gentle and . . . I liked him. I don’t care if he’s a little bit Indian or all Indian!” The stubborn look was back on her face.
    “Get down off your high horse, Laura. That’s what
you say to me. No one said it wasn’t all right for you to like him.”
    The familiar light smile touched Laura’s lips. “I’m sorry, Lottie.”
    “What fer? Speakin’ yore mind? Ain’t no call to be sorry for speakin’ yore mind.”
    Laura didn’t answer; she hardly heard what Lottie said. She was reliving the time she had spent held close in the man’s arms, the gentle rain wetting her cheeks, and her heart thumping against his.

Six
    April 17
    Today was the second day of our journey and we traveled in a heavy spring rain. Past noon we crossed Timber Creek and shortly after the drovers reported it was swollen out of it’s banks. I was told to add the name of Cora Lee Watson to the list of women going to California. She joined us last night. I do not know how she came to be on the prairie miles from Fort Worth.
    April 19
    We have scarcely made ten miles a day for the last two days. Other wagons we passed are bagged down and waiting for the ground to dry. We are wet and cold, but Mr. Steele pushes on. Today we passed an unmarked grave of piled stone.
    April 20
    More of the same, but this evening the clouds are thinner. We passed a sod house. A
woman and children came out to wave at us. They looked so lonely standing there.
    April 21
    Sunshine today. Even the mules had more spirit. The prairie is covered with small blue flowers that resemble bells. Among them, in patches of orange and red, is another type of flower. Everything looks fresh and clean, but the ground is still soggy underfoot. I don’t know where we are, but we are coming into hilly country. Mr. Steele has not brought the map he promised.
    * * *
    Tucker made the entry in the journal, closed the book, and put it away. She wasn’t exactly pleased with what she had written, but without the map she could record only her observations. It had been a frustrating few days since Lucas had walked her back to the wagon and left her with his kiss burning on her lips. She had gone to bed filled with wonder that he had singled her out of all the women on the train and as much as declared his love for her. It all seemed to have happened so fast! She hadn’t spoken to him since that night, but she had seen him.
    Nervous and excited, she had waited the next morning for him to come riding down the line. She had searched his face, her eyes bright with her secret happiness, and his had slid over her as if nothing had passed between them. She had sat stock-still, tears biting at her eyelids, her stomach churning. His
rebuff was the most painful experience of her life. Now, after several days had passed, all that was left was embarrassment. She had been foolish and gullible. She tried not to think about it, but when she did it was as if it were someone else he had held in his arms that night. Now pride forced her to return his gaze coolly when they met.
    As