Wed On The Wagon Train. Tracy Blalock

beautiful,” a child’s voice piped up, snagging Mattie’s attention.

      She shifted her gaze and spotted a little girl of about five standing beside their wagon, staring at Adela in rapt awe. “Are you a princess?”

      Adela laughed in delight. “No. But thank you for the lovely compliment.”

      “Sarah Jane Baker, come away from there!” A woman with the same light brown hair and hazel eyes as the little girl rushed over and caught the child’s arm in a firm grasp. “Don’t bother the fine lady.”

      “But, Mama,” Sarah Jane protested, tugging against her mother’s hold.

      Adela offered mother and daughter a wide smile. “She’s not a bother.”

      Mrs. Baker seemed momentarily stunned by Adela’s dazzling expression, but quickly recovered her wits and hastened her child away.

      A piercing whistle rent the air, drawing Mattie’s attention to the man waving her forward. It was their turn to board the wooden ferry, at last.

      But she immediately hit a snag when she tried to get the oxen in motion. After countless starts and stops, they weren’t inclined to budge any farther. And she had no idea how to persuade them. Though plenty of men used whips to control their teams, she hesitated to do so.

      “Get up,” she urged, but to no avail.

      One animal stamped his foot, but the team didn’t move forward.

      Climbing down from the wagon seat, she walked to the head of one of the oxen and tugged on the U-shaped metal piece encircling his neck. Still nothing.

      She didn’t have the strength to muscle him where he didn’t want to go. To make matters worse, he shook his head as though silently scoffing at her puny efforts.

      “You’re making me look bad,” she scolded the recalcitrant beast. “Come on, cooperate. Please?”

      All she got in response was an ear twitch.

      “Hurry up!” a man yelled behind her, his British accent instantly recognizable.

      Couldn’t he see she was trying? If he was in such an all-fired rush, he should offer his assistance instead of just shouting orders. But he no doubt considered it beneath him to help others.

      Mattie wished her father had chosen horses to pull the covered wagon. She prided herself on her ability as a horsewoman. They would have given her no trouble. But horses couldn’t live off prairie grasses like oxen. And oxen were supposed to be more reliable—though, apparently, someone had forgotten to tell her team.

      Lord, please move these oxen.

      Josiah appeared at her side as if in answer to her prayer. “Need some help?”

      Though it wasn’t what she’d meant when she’d appealed to the Lord, she wasn’t going to question His ways. “Yes, please,” she accepted in relief.

      He gave the animal’s rump a light tap, which was enough to get him moving, and the rest of the team followed behind as docile as lambs, trailing Josiah onto the ferry.

      Her cheeks heated.

      What had she done wrong? She had no experience with driving a wagon. Had the oxen sensed that? If she couldn’t control her team, she’d be subjected to dangerous scrutiny. It felt like dozens of eyes were focused on her even now, and she pulled the brim of her hat lower over her face.

      Once the wagon wheels rolled onto the wooden planks, Josiah hopped back down to the ground. “There you go.”

      “Thank you.” Mattie stepped onto the ferry then glanced back in time to see Josiah heading toward an area where several horses were penned.

      When he reached the fence, he paused to stroke the nose of one animal. It was a different horse than the one she’d seen him riding yesterday.

      The wind tousled his bright hair, causing a lock to fall over his forehead. He was one of the most handsome men she’d ever met.

      But good looks could hide a multitude of sins, as she knew from personal experience. Even months later, she still sometimes had nightmares about what her life would be like if she’d married Charles Worthington back in Saint Louis. She touched her cheek, where a tiny scar served as a permanent reminder to look beneath the surface.

      Josiah appeared to be a truly good man—stepping in on two separate occasions to help her out—but she’d been fooled before and wouldn’t naively trust that he was everything he seemed.

      Too much was at stake.

      And she still didn’t know whether he’d seen through her disguise. Had he discerned more about her than he’d let on? The thought left her unsettled, but she scolded herself not to borrow trouble.

      Nonetheless, she had to keep her guard up. Around him and everyone else.

      The river current suddenly rocked the ferry, pulling her focus away from the far bank. She tightened her hold on the wagon frame and turned to face west.

      It was midafternoon by the time all twenty-five wagons were across the river, and their group made it less than two miles before the wagon master called a halt for the night. After their earlier obstinacy, the oxen seemed to take pity on her and hadn’t balked once on the trail.

      At their campsite, the covered wagons were arranged in a circle, and the area inside quickly became a hive of activity and movement. Mattie had to take special care to avoid being trampled by a nervous animal. Or getting in someone’s way. Observing the chaos, she noted that everybody seemed to know what to do.

      Except her and Adela.

      She didn’t want to stand out as a novice, but belatedly realized she had no idea how to unhitch the oxen. Or what to do with them once they were free of the wagon.

      She wasn’t living up to the promise she’d made to Miles Carpenter.

      Glancing around, she spotted Josiah. He was occupied with a group of horses, so there would be no help from that quarter.

      She’d have to do this on her own. Somehow.

      Circumspectly, she watched the other drivers’ actions in order to imitate them. As she moved toward her oxen, she noticed Adela still sat on the bench seat, where she’d insisted on riding all afternoon, despite the uncomfortable jostling as the covered wagon bounced over the rough trail.

      “Are you going to get down?”

      Tilting her parasol to shade her eyes from the slanting rays of the setting sun, she shook her head. “No. This is the only place to sit.”

      Mattie reached for the metal pin securing the nearest oxen’s neck thingamabob to the wooden doodad, which connected him to a second animal. “You don’t need a place to sit right now. You need to get busy starting a fire and cooking supper.” She abandoned her task for a moment to give her sister her full attention. “I can’t do everything myself, Adela. And since I’m taking over the jobs Papa would have handled, it’s up to you to see to the chores around camp that you and I originally planned to share.”

      “But I don’t know how to cook,” the younger girl protested. “I don’t even know how to start a fire.”

      “You’ll learn.” She wasn’t unsympathetic toward Adela’s plight, but coddling the younger girl would set an unwise precedent. “There’s some wood in that box strapped to the side of the wagon, and the matches are in Papa’s copper tin.”

      But still, her sister sat motionless.

      “The chores aren’t going to do themselves, and you’re wasting daylight,” Mattie prodded. “Things will be even more difficult to do in the dark.”

      Snapping her parasol closed, Adela tossed it into the wagon and clambered down from the high seat.

      Mattie breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

      “Save