“I’ll be riding horseback tomorrow,” Jack said as he relieved himself a few feet away from the wagon. Thor limped over to supervise, moving surprisingly well, mostly on three legs.
“Just so you know, Jordy told me what you got in mind. You’re going to have a tussle with him yet over your taking off.”
“I’m sure you don’t approve either?”
“Been scratching my head trying to remember if there’s anything stupider you’ve done. Haven’t found it yet.”
Several hours later, riding in the back of the wagon with Thor, Jack figured the wagon must be moving at a good pace, the way the thing was rattling and shaking. He also figured riding a horse could not be more painful or uncomfortable. The unloaded wagon bounced and jostled as it rolled over the rough prairie, and every stone on the trail sent a shooting pain up his leg and lower back.
They had caught up with the other wagons now, and Jack hoped that might ease the pace some. No sooner had the thought entered his mind than the wagon rolled to a stop. He saw Sierra lead her strawberry roan mare to the back of the wagon where she hitched the critter and then climbed over the backboard like a graceful mountain goat. He doubted if he could have negotiated the climb that easily fifty years ago. Fifty years. A half century. He was measuring life in fractions of a century now. Darn depressing.
“Grandpa,” Sierra said, as she sat down across from him. “How are you feeling?”
He was getting tired of that question and the cheery voices and smiles that went with it. Sierra Wills could be a charmer, but he refused to be charmed this day. “I’m doing okay,” he said.
“You need to pee. Maybe you have other chores.”
Chores. A refined word for shit. He would have to remember that. “I’m fine with my chores, and Rudy helped me and Thor out to pee before the wagon pulled out.”
“He did? He didn’t say anything to me about it when I pulled him over.”
“Probably scared to. He’s gutless when it comes to dealing with females.”
She squinted her eyes and looked at him with annoyance, her smile having been replaced by tight lips. “Well, let me see if you did any damage.” She crawled over next to his injured leg and began unwrapping the dressing. “It’s bleeding and draining some, but I guess that’s to be expected. It appears you didn’t do great harm. I’ll redress it before I go. We might need another of Jael’s poultices. Flesh around the wound looks a little pink, but I suppose that’s normal.”
“I’ve got some spare britches rolled up in my possible bag. I think Jordy’s got it with my guns and other personals. Would you tell him to bring it by tonight?”
She crawled away, apparently seeking out the little bag of dressing rags she had left in one of the empty boxes. She did not answer him until she came up with the bag.
“I don’t think he will. Jordy told me about your scheme.”
“Had no idea I raised up such a tattler. Nobody’s business what I do. Tell Jordy I want my personal stuff. Tonight. Hanging onto my things won’t change what I do one whit. If I can’t have my clothes, I’ll just ride out of here naked and bareback if I’ve got to. Like that Lady Godiva. Do you know about her?”
“Yes, I have read of Lady Godiva. She was a real person, but most scholars think what she supposedly did was more legend than fact. She was protesting taxes that her own husband, some earl, was levying on his tenants.”
“I am impressed,” Jack said. “Anyway, I hope you got my point.”
“I do get your point. And I think you are a stubborn . . .”
Jack chuckled, “Old man.”
“I did not say that.”
“No. You reined in your words before you got there. But you are right, and you have just caught a hint of my stubbornness. Ask Jordy. Only I prefer to call it ‘persistence.’”
Chapter Forty-Five
Jordy and Sierra stood a respectful distance away as Jack and Swede constructed the dog cart. Several Comanches watched with curiosity. Roper had volunteered to provide the muscle the two injured carpenters could not muster and had hewn an axle from a thick oak post that was one of the supports for a Studebaker floor. Floor planks had been scavenged from both Studebakers to construct a box for the cart. They had no saws, so the axe-carved edges would be rough, but a box some five feet long and four feet wide was starting to form.
Sunset would close the workers down soon, but they were well on the way to completing Jack’s dog cart before the travelers and their horse herd reached Castle Gap. Insanity, Jordy thought. What was Jack thinking? And there would be no stopping him short of hogtying the ornery cuss.
“He is really going to do this, isn’t he?” Sierra said.
“Yeah, he is.” Jordy said. “I gave him his stuff. He plans to ride Pokey some tomorrow.”
“That wound’s not going to heal if he’s jostling it on the back of a horse. I’m a little worried. I checked it before supper. There’s more redness and swelling around the entry wound and a yellow discharge.”
“Pus? An infection?”
Sierra said, “Till this trip, my doctoring has been confined to horses and a few cows and dogs. Some infection is sort of expected in open wounds. Usually, it goes away with time, but it is probably causing some extra pain. He hasn’t complained, though.”
“Of course not. That’s not Jack. Uncle Rudy is in charge of complaining.”
“I am going with him,” she said.
“Me, too.
