“Yeah, I’m startin’ to figure that out myself,” Preacher admitted with a grin.
“But you’re a young man yet,” Bartlett said.
“It ain’t so much the years. It’s the miles, and everything you see and do along the way. I’ve been a heap of miles since I came west.”
“I suppose you have. What made you leave home in the first place, if you don’t mind me asking.”
Preacher leaned on his rife. “No, I don’t mind, but I sort of don’t remember. I was always a mite restless, I reckon. Always wanted to know what was out there, past what I could see.”
“By now have you seen it all?” Bartlett asked. He wasn’t smiling, and evidently he was serious.
Preacher shook his head. “I don’t figure one man could live long enough to see all there is to see out here. The country stretches too far, all the way out to the Pacific and from the Rio Grande in the south to the Milk River in the north. I’ve seen a heap of it, I reckon, but there are still plenty of places I’ve never been. I intend to keep lookin’ as long as I can.”
Casey and Lorenzo came over to the fire a short time later. Casey was rather cool toward Preacher, cool enough that Lorenzo noticed. While they were saddling their horses after breakfast, the old-timer asked, “You do somethin’ to make that gal mad at you, Preacher?”
“Nope,” Preacher replied. It was more a matter of what he
The day was much like the one before, at least as far as the ground they covered. They did a little better because they didn’t run into any Indians. The scenery didn’t change any and wouldn’t for quite a while, Preacher knew. They had a lot of prairie to cover before the mountains came into view in the distance. Once that occurred, it would still be a week or more before they actually reached the higher ground.
During the day, Preacher noticed on several occasions that Roland Bartlett was watching him. The youngster’s stare wasn’t a friendly one. He always looked away quickly whenever Preacher glanced toward him, but then he would start glaring at the mountain man again.
Preacher wondered if Roland’s hostility had something to do with Casey. He could have seen her crawling under the wagon where Preacher was sleeping the night before and made more out of the incident than it really was.
When they made camp that evening, Roland continued casting unfriendly glances toward Preacher from time to time. Preacher was convinced the youngster was jealous. It was the only explanation that made any sense. Roland had been quick to help them two nights earlier in the tavern in Independence, but at that time he hadn’t known there was any sort of relationship between Preacher and Casey. Now he had figured it out . . . and he didn’t like it. He was attracted to Casey himself.
Even so, Preacher didn’t expect any real trouble to come from the situation. It would be fine with him if Casey decided to throw him over in favor of Roland. That would do away with the inevitable unpleasantness when the day came that he told her he was moving on without her.
Casey sat down next to Preacher to eat supper and smiled at him, putting her hand on his arm for a second as she said, “It was a good day today, wasn’t it?”
“We covered some ground,” he allowed.
“And we didn’t run into any more hostiles.”
Lorenzo sat down on Preacher’s other side in time to hear Casey’s comment. “I’ll bet there’s plenty more out there, ain’t they, Preacher?”
“The farther west we go, the more likely we’ll be to see them,” Preacher replied with a nod.
Roland came over carrying a plate of beans and cornbread. “Mind if I join you?” he asked the three of them in general, but Preacher could tell the question was really directed at Casey.
She smiled up at the young man. “That’ll be just fine,” she told him.
Roland sat down cross-legged on the ground beside her, close but not too close. He ate in silence for a few moments, then asked, “Did you say you grew up on a farm, Miss Casey?”
“You don’t have to call me Miss. Just call me Casey. And yes, I was born and raised on a farm.”
“Why did you leave there?”
That was sort of an awkward question to ask a gal, Preacher thought. Casey didn’t seem bothered by it, though. She said, “Oh, I wanted to see more of the world than just a barn and a kitchen. That’s how I wound up in St. Louis.”
At least Roland had the good sense not to press the issue and ask her about what she had done in the city. Instead, he said, “I grew up in Philadelphia, so I always had a city around. I have to say, I like it out here on the frontier. It’s not nearly as crowded, and the air smells better.”
“You’re sure right about that,” Lorenzo put in. “I didn’t know it was possible for the air not to stink until Preacher and Casey and me rode out of St. Louis.”
“It’s even better up in the mountains, isn’t it, Preacher?” Casey asked. “That’s what I’ve heard.”
He nodded. “It’s mighty nice country up there. Leastways, it seems like that to me. Some folks can’t handle the loneliness, though.”
“What about you?”
“I’ve never minded bein’ alone,” he said. Maybe that would give her a hint that he didn’t intend to travel with her from now on.
“I’m not sure I could stand being completely by myself like that,” she mused. “I’m used to having people around—”
Casey might have said more, but at that moment, Dog lifted his shaggy head from the ground and growled. The sound was a low rumble, deep in his throat. His ears pricked up as he stared into the darkness to the north of the camp.
