Page 13 of Father Goose

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Trapper thought they looked fine. All the girls except Emery looked like they’d been rolling in the mud, but that wasn’t unusual to see in little farming towns. He decided to saddle Midnight and ride ahead to make sure there were no problems around the bend. By noon he backtracked to make sure they were not being followed.

All was clear.

When he returned, Emery had fish cooking along with a pot of beans. The Millers came to supper and added cobbler to the meal. They talked of living near Dallas.

Trapper saw the widow yawning a few times and wondered if she’d had as much trouble sleeping as he had. She was in the wagon by the time he waved goodbye to the Millers, so he had no chance of a good-night kiss on the cheek.

At dawn the next morning, the girls helped him pull the wagon out of the trees and they were once again headed west. The Millers said they’d wait another day, but Trapper feared he’d lost too much time already. His goal was to get the girls home by Christmas, but he feared if more bad weather hit, he might not make it.

Once they were rolling, the girls were singing in the wagon and Emery was sitting beside him, so he thought he’d try to talk to her. “The girls look good with their hair in braids.”

She smiled. “All but Eliza.”

“Eliza. Who is Eliza?” Trapper asked.

The little widow smiled. “Trapper, you do know they have names.”

“Of course, but I had it worked out with numbers. Once I hear or see something it sticks in my head.”

“I’m aware.”

When he glanced at her Trapper wasn’t surprised to see her blushing.

He had a feeling one thing was on both their minds.

She tried to get back to their conversation. “Eliza is Number Three. The one who always wears a cap.” She leaned close and whispered, “You want to know why?”

“Sure.” He breathed in the scent of Emery. She smelled so good and he still smelled of trail dust and mud.

“She cut off her hair because she didn’t want to go home. I tried to trim it, but I’m afraid she’ll look more like a boy than a girl for a while if she takes off the hat.”

“Why didn’t she want to go home?”

“She says no one sees her there.”

Trapper had no idea what Emery meant. Not being seen had kept him alive during the war. He felt like he’d gone half his lifetryingto be invisible.

When they stopped to make their circle, Trapper pulled farther off the trail than usual. Traffic was picking up. He’d seen two wagons coming from the trading post and a man on horseback rode past about an hour ago.

As the girls wore off a bit of energy and the horses rested, he rode to where he could see the road. Number Two wanted to follow along. She lifted her hand, so he pulled her up behind him.

She had done it before, but he’d barely noticed. One of the girls was usually walking close to him or sitting with him when he watched the road or collected wood. It occurred to him that maybe they were watching him or acting as his bodyguard. Who knows, maybe they were his tiny little angels.

When he knelt behind tall grass, Number Two did the same thing.

He hadn’t waited long when four men, riding fast, came down the road. They weren’t farmers. They didn’t carry supplies on their saddles. Trapper touched his lips silently, telling Two not to make a sound.

Trapper had spent years learning to read people. These men were looking for trouble. Maybe running from someone, or riding toward something they wanted bad enough to exhaust their horses to get.

Who knows, maybe the men were even looking for him. Or worse, the girls. That knowledge felt like ice sliding down his back.

When the riders were out of sight, he swung Number Two onto Midnight and put his hat on her head. The big hat shadowed her face. “I’ll stay here and watch to make sure they don’t come back.” He put his hand over hers. “You tell Mrs. Adams where I am, then tie Midnight’s reins loosely to the saddle. She’ll come back to me.”

Two looked frightened.

“Don’t worry, I won’t let anything happen to you, baby.”

“Two,” she said straightening. “We like our code names and none of us are babies, not even Five.” Then she was off smiling. She was on a mission.


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