“You’ve made it clear over the past few days that you don’t want to have anything to do with me.”
“Now that just ain’t true,” he said. “I think you’re a fine gal, and I like havin’ you around.”
“So if I come to your bedroll tonight, you won’t turn me away?”
“I didn’t say that. Just because I like you don’t mean I think it’s a good idea for the two of us to, well, you know . . .”
“Is it because I was a whore? Because you can’t stop thinking about all the other men who have been with me?”
Preacher snorted. “Hell, no. You know better’n that, Casey. If there’s one thing the frontier’s taught me, it’s that yesterday’s dead and gone. What we did then don’t matter anymore. Since nobody knows if he’ll be around to see the sun come up the next mornin’, tomorrow don’t mean a whole hell of a lot, neither. What we do today, that’s what counts the most.”
“That’s what I think, too,” she said. “I just don’t understand why you don’t like me as much anymore.”
They had reached the rain-swollen creek. As they sat on their horses beside it, Preacher said, “Likin’ you don’t have anything to do with it. I just figure you’d be better off with somebody besides a shiftless old goat like me.”
“I keep telling you, you’re not that old. Anyway, that’s not your decision to make.”
“I reckon I’ve got a say in it, though.”
Casey laughed. “You know a lot about a lot of things, Preacher, but evidently not that much about women.”
He frowned and said, “I don’t mean to hurt you, Casey, and I reckon we’ll be travelin’ together until we get to Santa Fe, for sure, but after that I don’t know yet where I’ll be goin’ or what I’ll be doin’.”
She looked out over the churning water. “You want to abandon me in Santa Fe, is that it?”
“I’d never abandon you,” Preacher said.
“Well, that’s what it sounds like to me.”
With that, she wheeled her horse around and rode back toward the wagons. Preacher shook his head and muttered a curse. That hadn’t gone the way he wanted it to, but that was pretty much the story of his life where gals were concerned. Casey was right about one thing. Despite his experience, women were mostly a mystery to him and probably always would be.
He forced his mind onto a more pressing problem, namely the flooded creek. The stream was wider there, so the water level wasn’t as deep as it was farther upstream, but it was still deep enough and flowing fast enough that Preacher didn’t think it would be a good idea to take the wagons into it just yet. He had a hunch that by morning, the creek would have gone down enough they could ford it without too much difficulty.
When the wagons arrived, he gave that bit of good news to Leeman Bartlett. The man nodded and said, “Thank goodness. We’ll only lose a few hours that way.”
“Yeah. We’ll make camp right here and wait it out.”
The wagons were arranged in a circle with the livestock in the middle, and the men searched the surrounding prairie for buffalo dung that was dry enough to burn. By the time dusk began to settle over the landscape they had gathered enough to make a decent fire. They could have hot food and coffee again, and that would make everybody feel better.
As they were tending to their horses, Lorenzo said quietly to Preacher, “I saw Casey cryin’ a while back, after she talked to you. What’d you say to the gal, Preacher?”
“Dadgum it! I tried to get her to see that there ain’t no real future for her and me. Sooner or later she’s gonna want to settle down, and I ain’t cut out for that.”
“Has she said anything to you about settlin’ down, Preacher?” Lorenzo asked.
Preacher frowned. “Well . . . no, now that you mention it, she ain’t.”
“Then maybe you done jumped the gun a mite. Maybe you should’a just let things stay like they were until we get to Santa Fe. You coulda worried about it then.”
“Yeah, could be you’re right,” Preacher muttered. “Would’ve been simpler that way, that’s for damn sure. I don’t know how well it would’ve gone over with young Bartlett, though.”
“Roland ain’t a bad sort, but he ain’t near man enough for a gal like Casey. He’s got a heap of growin’ up to do first.”
“Maybe I’ll go talk to her. Try to set things right for a while, anyway.”
Lorenzo nodded. “Be a good idea, I’m thinkin’.”
The sun had gone down, and the night shadows were gathering. Preacher walked toward the fire, looking for Casey as he approached it. He didn’t see her, but Leeman Bartlett was there.
“Did you happen to notice where Casey got off to?” Preacher asked the older man.
“She was over by that wagon with Roland.” Bartlett pointed to one of the big, canvas-covered vehicles. He frowned worriedly. “Preacher, what sort of woman is Miss Casey? I’m afraid that Roland has, ah, developed an affection for her.”
“She’s one of the finest gals I ever met,” Preacher answered honestly.
“Are the two of you . . . I mean, I hope you’ll bear no ill will toward Roland because of what I just said.”
Preacher shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, Mr. Bartlett. I ain’t lookin’ for trouble. Not woman trouble, nor any other kind.”
Leaving Bartlett by the fire, he walked toward the wagon the man had pointed out. He didn’t see Casey and
