Set an axle?”
“You just don’t want me to drive, do you? Ever. You think this is your wagon.”
“Someone come round that bend on a wild horse, you ain’t gonna know what to do.”
“Oh, sorry, I forgot about all the wild horses we’ve been passing every five minutes.”
Olivia let the argument dissipate into the dark, not having been all that eager
to drive. In low places they bounced over logs that someone had placed across
the road. In some spots the logs lay lengthwise and Olivia worried the wagon wheels would get stuck between them, but Dixby and Dougan kept plodding
right along.
They had been riding in silence for a long while when she reluctantly said,
“Mourning, you’ve got to stop for me.” She had been holding it in for longer than seemed possible.
He said a gentle “Whoa” and sat ramrod, looking straight ahead. She wasn’t
about to venture into those dark woods to lift her skirt and so walked about fifty
paces back down the road, past the last bend they had rounded. She had foreseen
this necessity and was wearing no drawers. All she had to do was plant her feet
wide apart and lift her skirts above her knees. The stream of urine hitting the ground made the loudest noise she had ever heard and her cheeks grew hot with
embarrassment. You’d better get used to this too, she scolded.
When she retraced her steps around the bend Mourning was having a
conversation with Dixby and Dougan, while they took turns drinking from a
bucket. Olivia climbed back onto the wagon and Mourning joined her. After he
settled himself he handed her the reins.
“These animals been trained real good. All you gotta do is talk to them,” he
said.
They drove on in silence and nearly missed the wooden sign in the dark.
Mourning shouted “Whoa” and climbed down to read it by the lantern light. An
arrow was carved into it, beside the words “Fae’s Landing 3 Miles.”
“Oh that’s grand, we’re almost there,” Olivia said.
“We best stop here, lay them mattresses down in that clearing. We never
gonna find old Lorenzo’s cabin in the dark.” He took hold of the team’s harness
and led them off the road.
“But it’s only three miles.”
“To the town, not your farm. To your farm we gotta follow a trail, not a road.
And ’ccordin’ to your map we gotta cross some water. I ain’t doin’ that in the dark.”
He unyoked and hobbled the oxen and gave them feed and more water. Olivia
untied the ropes Mourning had wound over their belongings and began moving
things around in the bed of the wagon.
“What you doin’?” Mourning asked.
“Making it so I can lay my mattress up here, on top of all this stuff,” she said.
“I can’t sleep down there on the ground. It’s too dark. Too many things creeping
around. Don’t worry, I’ll put it back like it was.”
“Pioneer lady.” He shook his head, but at least he was smiling indulgently, not
