Part 2 (2/2)
”Yes, ma'am,” he said, laying his head back against a sack. He felt the wagon rock as the man climbed aboard. Ott spoke to the team and the wagonlurched forward.
Cynthie turned to watch Winn as they moved slowly along the rutted street.
With every b.u.mp he was jostled about. More than once she saw him grab forsomething to steady himself. She was as grateful as he was when they reachedthe river at the edge of town and stopped.
”We have to wait for the ferry,” she told him.
Winn's only reply was a deep sigh.
”It'll be a smoother ride for him on the prairie, Mrs. Franklin,” Ott a.s.suredher, jumping down to unhitch the team. Cynthie didn't answer.
The prairie was full of gopher holes. The road was merely earth packed downby the weight of wagon wheels. She doubted that it would be much better than the streets in town.
Cynthie was feeling doubtful about several things right now. It was probablytoo soon to move Mr. Sutton. The ride was bound to be very uncomfortablefor him, and maybe even dangerous. It might all be a mistake anyway. Takinghim in had seemed like the right thing to do, but now she wondered if sheshouldn't have listened to Kyle instead of let ting Dr.
Gordon talk her into this. She certainly didn't need one more problem to worry about.
She looked at Mr. Sutton and felt rea.s.sured. She didn't quite admit toherself that she found him intriguing. He needed her help and she couldn'trefuse, she told herself.
The ferry arrived. Cynthie climbed down and untied Obsidian, leading himonto the ferry as Ott and the ferryman rolled the wagon on board.
She went to stand behind the wagon holding the stallion's bridle, watchingher pa.s.senger.
”Did you use the ferry when you came in yesterday, Mr. Sutton?”
Cynthie asked.
Winn frowned.
”If we did I slept through it.”
”There's talk of a bridge,” she continued.
”Actually there's talk of two bridges, but I imagine only one will be built.”
Winn nodded. He didn't want to be rude but he didn't feel like talking,either. The plans this little town might have didn't interest him at themoment. He tried to relax and ignore the rocking motion of the ferry. He had driven herds of cattle across enough rivers to know the dangers and hehated boats. Crossing water on the back of a good horse was one thing; sitting helplessly in a wagon on a ferry was quite another, especially in thedark.
Cynthie gave up any hope of conversation. She turned to face the wind,bending her knees in time with the rocking motion as the current tugged atthe ferry. What she really wanted was an excuse not to ride with Reuben Ott.She glanced at him, helping to guide the ferry across. He was past middleage, long and skinny. No thing about him gave a hint of the scoundrel she believed him to be. It was just bad luck that he had been in the store whenshe had gone in to ask about renting a wagon. Why had he volunteered to givethem a ride? He probably wanted to know what she was up to. He hadn't asked many questions yet, but Cynthie was sure he would.
The ferry reached the opposite bank and when it was secured, Ott led thehorses off, then helped the ferryman push the wagon. Winn felt the wagonjerk as the wheels rolled from the planks onto the softer ground.
When the team was. .h.i.tched, Ott went to the back of the wagon and tied thestallion securely.
”How's our pa.s.senger, Mrs. Franklin?” He gave Winn a pat on the shoulder.”Hang on, friend. I think the worse is over.” He took Cynthie's elbow tolead her forward and helped her aboard.
Cynthie tried not to show her irritation. It was as if he knew she would
rather ride Obsidian and had come back to make sure she didn't.
When he was seated next to her, he flicked the reins and the team started forward.
Ott cleared his throat and gave his companion a sidelong glance.
”Tell me, Mrs. Franklin, is everything going all right for you at the ranch?”
”Fine, Mr. Ott,” she replied tightly.
Ott nodded, ma king little approving sounds.
”Your herd got off late, I understand. Word is you were missing several
head.”
Cynthie gritted her teeth.
”I don't see that that's any of your business, Mr. Ott.”
”No, ma'am, maybe not. But if there's trouble affecting one settler, it soon
affects the rest.” He nodded for emphasis.”I like to keep up on things in my neighborhood.”Cynthie didn't answer. She suspected Ott knew as much or more about her missing cattle than she did.
”Who knows,” Ott added.
”Someday I might be able to help you.”
”That's very kind of you, Mr. Ott. I'll be sure to call on you should I need
help.” Cynthie hoped he would get the message and keep quiet.If not, it was going to be an awfully long trip.Cynthie turned to watch Winn. He seemed to be sleeping. The wagon was shaking him but not tossing him about as it had before.
She hoped she wasn't ma king a big mistake. Care of an invalid was
considerable work. She wasn't at all sure she could handle it.Teaching him to live without his sight might turn out to be impossible.”Where do you know him from?”Cynthie looked at Ott sharply. Explaining that she was taking a complete stranger into her home would sound crazy. It was a certainty that whatever she told Ott would be all over the country in no time.
”He's my cousin,”
she said firmly.
”On my mother's side.”
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