High Plains Bride

He urged his horse forward as Emmeline returned. “Did you decide to come with me?”

“Yes.”

“Then let’s get a move on.”

Reaching up, she grasped the wrist of the hand he offered. He easily swung her up to ride behind the cantle of his saddle. It did surprise him a bit that she chose to sit astride, but given the sorry state of her formerly lovely dress, it was certainly not going to harm her clothing to do so.

“All set?” Will asked. Before she answered he felt her slim arms gently slipping around his waist.

“Yes. If you will permit me to hold on.”

“As you said, this is no time for us to worry about keeping to etiquette. I certainly won’t think poorly of you for doing so, ma’am. And I’m sure your missing sister will agree, too, once we’ve found her.”

He gave the horse a nudge with his heels and started back onto the prairie. By now, some of the beaten-down grasses had recovered and sprung back, making movement a little easier but cutting down on distance visibility.

Even while she was sitting astride the gelding, Will knew that Emmeline would barely be able to see over the tops of the big bluestem once it was back to its full height. By late summer, some of that prairie grass would reach a height of ten feet or more. It was great fodder for his cattle and the wild buffalo. It just wasn’t an ideal place for conducting a search.

Will’s innate sense of direction stood him in good stead. He knew which ground he had already covered and didn’t repeat that path, thereby saving time.

“I forgot to ask. What colors were they wearing?” he inquired, more for something to say than because he needed to know. Given the normal greens and browns of the prairie and the drifts of so many different varieties of blooming wildflowers, spotting unnatural objects lying within the cover of the vegetation would be extremely difficult, no matter what, but any clue could help.

His heart gave an unexpected jolt when his passenger tightened her hold on him and leaned forward to speak past his left shoulder.

“Bess had on a blue calico, like mine,” Emmeline said. “I don’t remember what the twins were wearing. I suppose Missy was wearing one of Bess’s old dresses, and I recall the pink ribbons in her hair. And Mikey always wore Johnny’s shirts over breeches that were way too short.” Her voice caught for a moment before she recovered and went on. “We used to tease him about being so skinny that his old pants still fit, even if they were practically knee britches by now.”

“Okay. Just keep your eyes open. I’m going to head for a bluff nearby in the hopes they found shelter there.”

“We didn’t know where to go or what to do,” Emmeline said. “I suppose I should have pulled everyone into the wagon, but I thought Mama would have sense enough to run away with Glory and me.”

“Is that how you ended up outside while your mother was trapped?”

“No.”

Will felt her slumping as she eased away, relaxed a little and gave an audible sigh.

“I was in the wagon when the wind picked me up and carried me off,” Emmeline said. “Glory, too. The last thing I remember is praying that the baby would be all right. Then, everything went dark.”

He reined in. The saddle leather creaked as he swiveled to peer at her over his shoulder. “What? Why didn’t you tell me all that before? Are you sure you aren’t hurt?”

“As sure as I can be, considering,” Emmeline said. “I know I bumped my head, and it was pounding when I woke up, but it seems all right now, and I think that was the worst of it. That, and a few little scratches. If Glory and I had been in that wagon when it flipped over, one or both of us could have been caught halfway out and killed just like Papa was.”

The very mention of that possibility gave Will the chills. His simple urge to locate the little family and check on their welfare had not prepared him for finding this lovely young woman injured—or worse. All along, he had been picturing himself arriving to help her, just as he had. Now, when he thought about the chances that she might have been killed, his heart lurched like a frightened pony.

“Well, you weren’t badly hurt, so we can give thanks for that,” he said, hoping he sounded encouraging instead of the way he was really feeling. The fact that they had found no trace of her sister or the younger children was not a good sign. Not good at all.

He paused on the next hillock to stretch in the saddle, shade his eyes against the glare of the setting sun and scan the lower-lying landscape. “I don’t see anything, do you?”

“Just scattered blankets and a few smaller things. Mama’s bedding and most of our clothing must have been carried for miles and miles.”

“I’ll help you gather up more of it later. Right now, first things first.”

He was about to turn and take Emmeline back to the Carter wagon when she tightened her hold on his rib cage with one arm, pointed with the other and screeched, “Stop!” frightening the horse enough to cause it to jump and prance sideways, almost unseating them both.

Will jerked back on the reins and managed to quiet the fractious horse and regain control before he asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Over there!” she shouted. “See that blue fabric? It looks like Bess’s dress!”

In Emmeline’s opinion, reaching the prostrate form of her poor sister was taking an eternity. She kept kicking the horse in the flanks while Will held it in check with a tight rein.

“Faster!” she insisted. “Either hurry up or let me off right here.”

“If we gallop and the little ones are lying in the grass where we can’t see them, it’ll just make matters worse. Settle down. We’re almost there.”

She knew he was right, but that didn’t make it any easier to bide her time. Patience had never been one of her virtues and being embroiled in this tragedy had not helped one iota.

If anything, it had made her more anxious. That was not something she considered a fault or a sin. On the contrary, she thought she was doing well to keep from screaming at the poor man whom she knew was merely trying to help.

“Bess!” Emmeline called. “Bess, I’m here. I’m coming.”

The figure lying prostrate on a patch of rocky ground did not stir.

As Will reined in beside it, Emmeline pushed herself back, slid over the horse’s rear and dropped to the ground. She was already kneeling at her sister’s side and shaking the girl’s shoulders when Will joined her.

“Is she alive?” he asked.

“Yes, she’s breathing, thank the Lord. I don’t know why she doesn’t wake up.”

“Don’t be too rough with her,” he warned. “She might have broken bones.”

“It’s my fault, it’s all my fault,” Emmeline keened as tears slipped down her cheeks and fell to bathe her sister’s face.

“You didn’t make the bad weather and you weren’t responsible for your father’s decision to press on,” he countered.

Then it must be God’s fault for not looking after us, she thought so quickly, so instinctively that she was unable to censor it. Instead of voicing that disturbing conclusion, she said, “Bess doesn’t deserve this. She’s never hurt a fly.”

Will had been studying the area around them. He bent and hefted a portion of a large tree limb that lay a few yards away. “I think this is what may have hit your sister in the head and knocked her out. Check in her hair and see if there’s a lump.”

Following his instructions, Emmeline found one small wound at Bess’s temple and a welt on the back of her head. “Yes. There’s a goose egg and…” She cradled the girl’s head and shoulders and was about to continue searching for further injuries, when the younger girl stirred.

“Bess? Dear? It’s Emmeline. You’re safe now.”

Her sister’s eyelashes fluttered. Grinning while shedding tears of relief and thankfulness, Emmeline looked to Will. “I think—”

“Yes. She’s coming around.” He crouched next to them.

When Bess’s eyes opened and focused on Emmeline, she opened her mouth as if to speak. Her eyes widened in apparent terror. Emmeline had thought the girl was going to scream, but no sound came forth. Nor were there tears.

Continuing to cradle her and taking her hand, Emmeline patted it gently, reassuringly. “It’s all right, Bess. I’m here. You’re going to be fine.”