Free Wagon Train Sisters (Women of the West) by Shirley Kennedy

catch up with the Morehead train today?”
    “The storm might have held them up, too, so it’s possible. Let’s hope they had to stop for some other reason. Was anyone expecting a baby?”
    Ma’s face lit. “Mrs. Carpenter! She was due any day.” She blushed, realizing she’d touched on a forbidden subject, yet the rest of the morning she had an eagerness about her, as if she expected to find the Morehead train around every bend of the trail. By the time they halted at noon, they’d come across a heap of garbage not yet rotted and fresh wagon tracks on the road—clear signs a wagon train had recently passed by. By now Ma was all eagerness. “I can hardly wait to see Hiram again. Who knows? Maybe he’ll have some word of Florrie.”
    “Wouldn’t that be wonderful?” With all her heart, Sarah hoped he would. She looked forward to seeing Hiram, too. She missed him. They’d always been close, even after he married Becky.
    In the middle of the afternoon, when they rounded a bend, Ma gave a joyous cry. In a meadow ahead, parked in a big circle, lay the wagons of the Morehead wagon train.
    The reunion was every bit as heartwarming as Sarah expected. Everyone was glad to see them. Sure enough, Mrs. Carpenter had just had her baby, and that’s why they’d stopped an extra day. When Hiram saw them, he whooped with delight. Even Becky was smiling. That night after supper, Jack, Ben, and the Bryan family sat around the campfire catching up on all that had happened. How Florrie’s necklace came to be part of a Shoshone Indian’s war bonnet caused great speculation. Nobody knew. To Ma’s deep disappointment, there’d been no news of Florrie. Hiram brought out his sketchpad. At one time or another, he’d drawn a sketch of every member of the family, including one of his younger sister. He tore it from the pad and handed it to his mother. “Here’s her picture. I’ve been showing it to everyone we meet along the trail.”
    Ma took one look and had to hold back tears. She handed the picture to Sarah. “It looks just like her, doesn’t it?”
    Not really . Hiram, always kind, had softened the plain features of his sister’s face and given her a slight smile so she looked almost pretty. Still, this was Florrie, and the sight of her image brought back all the anguish and heartache of her loss. Sarah swallowed the despair in her throat. “Yes, that’s Florrie. We’ll keep showing this picture to everyone we meet. Surely, someone must have seen her.”
    Becky had been fidgeting, as if she was anxious to change the subject. “You’d never guess what happened while you were gone.” When she had everyone’s attention, her eyes sparked with eagerness as she told her story. “It happened the day after we left you behind. When we camped that night, this band of men rode into our camp. Said they were gold seekers, just riding through, and could we put them up for the night? Well!” Becky had a habit of pursing her lips when she disapproved. “Such a rough bunch I never did see, loud and given to curses the likes of which I never heard before. There was one man in particular, had a scraggly beard, big red nose, and he’d been drinking.”
    “Had to be Josiah Peterson.” Ben spat a wad of tobacco with contempt. “A bad actor if ever there was one.”
    Becky nodded in agreement. “I could tell. He had me scared, just the way he looked at me with those beady little eyes.”
    Hiram spoke up. “You shouldn’t have worried. I was about to get my guns.”
    “You?” Becky laughed with scorn. “You couldn’t hit the broadside of a barn. Just about then Mr. Morehead showed up, thank goodness. He told that awful man in no uncertain terms…”
    As Becky went on talking, Sarah sent a glaring look of indignation to her brother who sat on the other side of the campfire. Don’t let her talk to you like that! Poor, easy-going Hiram just sat there stony faced, as if he didn’t care, but his wife’s belittling words in