Tracy Blalock - Wed On The Wagon Train

“You half-wit!” the first thief growled. “Now the whole camp knows we’re here! Let’s get out of here.” He tried to grasp the ropes.

But the loud noise of the gunshot had unnerved the horses. They danced out of reach, thwarting his efforts. He glanced over his shoulder in the direction of the wagon circle, where several men were emerging with lanterns in hand.

Muttering a curse, he abandoned all attempts to regain control of the skittish animals. “Forget the horses. I’m not sticking around to be caught and hanged!”

He beat a hasty retreat, his partner in crime hot on his heels.

Josiah and Mattie climbed to their feet. After quickly assessing that neither of them had been injured, Josiah moved toward his horses.

“Whoa, easy.” His tone soft and gentle, he climbed between the ropes forming the temporary enclosure.

But calming a half dozen horses at once was more than any one man could handle on his own, and Josiah’s animals were in danger of breaking through the flimsy barrier.

Here at last was a way Mattie could be useful. She had plenty of experience with horses—unlike most other aspects of trail life.

Despite her worry for the animals and Josiah, her heart felt lighter as she stepped forward to lend him a hand.

* * *

Josiah cast a sidelong glance at Matt as the boy waded into the mass of milling horseflesh. It took less than a handful of seconds to determine that this was one area where the kid could hold his own. He plainly knew how to navigate around unsettled horses.

While showing proper caution and respect for their size and strength, he displayed no signs of hesitation or unease. Though one wrong move could see him kicked or even trampled.

As Matt advanced toward the head of one horse, he spoke in low, soothing tones. Fuzzy ears cocked in response. Reaching for the rope encircling the horse’s neck, he held the animal in place and stroked her side. The chestnut mare visibly calmed under his gentle ministrations.

The instinctive fear Josiah had felt over Matt’s safety vanished, and he wordlessly accepted the boy’s assistance.

More men started to arrive then, but they were clearly made wary by the other horses’ rolling eyes and stomping hooves, and none braved the space inside the makeshift corral.

“What happened?” the wagon master demanded, breathing heavily after his dash from the wagon circle. “Who fired that shot?”

Matt remained silent, leaving it to Josiah to explain. He did so in a few succinct words and jerked his head toward the two retreating figures, now barely discernible in the darkness.

“Will they come back and try again?” nineteen-year-old Frank Malone asked, as he watched the would-be thieves hightailing it across the prairie.

“It’s unlikely,” Jed Smith volunteered. “They’d be fools to try anything else tonight, with the entire camp on alert.”

Frank’s younger brother, Cody, cleared his throat, his blond peach fuzz gleaming in the lantern light. “Shouldn’t we go after them? Form a posse or something?”

“There’s no need,” Elias countered. “They didn’t take any of the horses. Besides, they have too much of a head start, and tracking is near impossible at night.”

Several men voiced their agreement.

Miles Carpenter moved closer to the rope fence encircling the horses. “Good work running off those thieves, Josiah.”

“I didn’t do it alone. Matt had a hand in it. In fact, he’s the one who first spotted them.” He flicked a quick glance toward Miles.

The news plainly caught the wagon master by surprise, but he quickly recovered. “Job well done, Matt.”

The kid was practically hidden behind the large bulk of one horse. Almost as if he would’ve preferred that no one took any notice of him.

He kept his head down as he replied, “Thanks.”

Miles held his lantern aloft to read the face of his pocket watch. “It’s almost midnight. Since you men assigned to the second watch are already here, we may as well change the guards now.” No one uttered a protest, and he continued, raising his voice to be heard by the small crowd that had gathered. “The rest of you folks head on back to the wagons and get some sleep.”

The group dispersed and soon only Josiah and Matt remained, still tending to the horses.

Josiah removed a hastily tied rope from around one horse’s neck. “I’m grateful to you for spotting the thieves when you did, Matt. If not for your vigilance, they might have succeeded in stealing the horses before we could stop them.” And that would have meant his livelihood. All his plans for starting a ranch in Oregon Country hinged on these horses. He patted the neck of the closest one. “Then you helped keep the animals from bolting. That puts me in your debt twice over.”

The kid’s back remained turned toward Josiah as he answered. “You’ve helped me a time or two. So, why don’t we call it even?”

“Fair enough.” Judging the horses sufficiently calmed, Josiah exited the enclosure, but moved no farther. “You should head back to the wagon circle.”

“Aren’t you coming?”

“No. I’m going to bed down here for what’s left of the night.” This patch of dirt was just as comfortable as the spot where he’d intended to sleep near the covered wagons.

“Do you expect more trouble?” Though darkness masked Matt’s expression, a hint of worry sounded in his voice.

Josiah shook his head. “But I’ll rest easier if I stay close.”

“Well, then, good night.”

“See you in the morning,” Josiah returned.

The boy’s nod seemed stiff as he walked away.

Watching his retreating back, Josiah contemplated the puzzle that was Matt Prescott. Just when he thought he had the kid figured out, Matt did something to surprise him.

But perhaps the boy’s expertise with horses wasn’t so unexpected. After all, back in Tennessee Josiah had encountered his fair share of well-to-do gentlemen who were accomplished horsemen, though sadly inept in other respects.

Several of them had been willfully ignorant besides, with no desire to learn. That didn’t appear to be the case with Matt, however. Was it because he had no alternative but to adapt to a different life than the one he’d been raised to lead?

What was his story? The kid was strangely close-mouthed about himself.

Leaving Josiah to draw his own conclusions. How close those were to the actual truth, he could only guess.

Chapter Four

The wind gusted across the prairie as Mattie staked the oxen out at the chosen night campsite more than a week later. Clapping a hand to her hat, she jammed it farther down on her head to prevent it blowing away.

Once the oxen were settled, she started back toward the wagon circle, passing the horse enclosure on her way. One mare stepped forward, her head stretched over the rope fence, seeking attention.

Josiah had ridden out on one of his other horses, as was his habit after the group made camp. He spent a good bit of time each day working with the green-broke horses on a rotating basis, furthering their training.

Mattie paused to stroke the mare’s soft nose, then saw the horse was favoring one leg, not putting any weight on it. She couldn’t see Josiah ignoring something like this—he cared too much about his animals to ever neglect one of them. The problem must have escaped his notice before he departed.

While she could wait and bring it to his attention upon his return, she could just as easily take a look at it herself.

Despite her words to Josiah several days ago, she didn’t consider them even. She’d simply spotted the thieves a few moments before they would have caught Josiah’s eye anyway. The balance was still tipped against her, and the fact that she owed him made her leery. A debt could be used to ruin a person, as she’d learned back in Saint Louis.