Free Ana Seymour by Jeb Hunters Bride Page B

river crossing. He’d felt much the same excitement he was seeing on Patrick’s face. Melly had been petrified, he remembered. She’d clenched his hand so tightly that her nails had dug into his skin, leaving a scar that had lasted for months. He’d looked for that scar recently, but couldn’t find it anymore. It didn’t matter. The scars he carried inside would never fade. The sudden memory put an effective end to his upbeat mood. He shifted in the saddle. “Is your brother awake?”
    “No.” The eager light in Patrick’s eyes faded as he became aware of the dimming of Jeb’s expression.
    “You’d best stay here, then, until he does. The Todds will be starting across in a few minutes, but there’ll be plenty of time for you to see wagons crossing. It’s going to go on all day.”
    “So I can come down as soon as my brother is awake?”
    Jeb tried to resurrect his smile. “Yes. Just be sure that you stay out of the way of the wagons when they start rolling down the bank. It’s steep, and this will be the first good test of the brakes on some of these rigs.”
    “I’ll be careful.”
    “Good boy,” Jeb said with a nod. Then he rode back toward the front of the train, his face once again solemn.
    As it turned out, most of the members of the train were almost as interested as Patrick in their first river crossing. By the time Jeb had crossed back and forth himself several times and was satisfied with the route, the banks had filled with spectators to witness the Todds’ big wagon taking the first plunge.
    Kerry and Patrick had walked down with Scott and the Burnetts. There was a festive mood to the day. A change from what had already become the numbing sameness of plodding along mile after mile of dusty prairie.
    “For lunch we could bring a picnic here to the bank,” Kerry suggested gaily, causing Scott to laugh.
    “Isn’t this trip a sort of five-month long picnic?” he asked. “We’ve been eating outdoors for every meal.”
    Kerry refused to be discouraged. “Yes, but today’s different. We could have a little party. I’ll make some lemonade.”
    Most wagons had started out with plenty of sugar, but the precious supply of lemons would only last a few more days. Then, except for the wealthier parties who had purchased some of the expensive flavoring extracts, they would have to be content with the flavor of whatever water they encountered along the way, however brackish.
    “And we could open a package of sugar biscuitsand the tin of licorice drops,” Patrick added with enthusiasm.
    “Yea, a picnic!” Polly shouted, jumping to her feet, followed inevitably by her sister. The two had been sitting still for long enough.
    “Picnic!” Molly echoed.”
    Dorothy Burnett smiled indulgently. “It looks as if we’re going to have a picnic today, my friends.” She stood, more decorously than her daughters, and shook out her skirts. “I’ll mosey back to the wagon and see what goodies I can come up with.”
    Kerry also pushed herself up from the ground. “I’ll go, too.”
    When Scott and John Burnett began to stand as well, Dorothy waved a hand at them. “You other men stay here and mind the children on the bank. Then you can all come along back to the wagons in about half an hour to carry our picnic.”
    Dorothy always made Kerry feel comfortable. It hadn’t seemed to matter that the friendly woman thought that she was a man. She chatted with Kerry as naturally as if they’d been lifelong friends.
    The two made their way up the bank and toward the row of waiting wagons, but a shout made Kerry look back over her shoulder. A wagon had come to a halt just a few feet into the river and Jeb Hunter was riding around it, trying to determine what had caused it to get stuck. He swung off one side of his saddle, hanging practically upside down toward the water. The movement strained the fabric of his clothes tight across his broad back and, Kerry noticed with a guilty flush, across his muscular