A Change of Plans

Chapter One

It was going to get dark soon. Anson knew he needed to find a place to camp for the night and let the horse rest. He felt the animal needed it more than he did, although the tension in his neck was starting to give him a headache.

He'd been a bit surprised when, a few hours earlier, he'd spotted a single covered wagon off in the distance, but it was none of his business what it was doing there. As the day wore on, he found himself watching for any kind of movement, but other than the two horses that were tethered nearby, there was no sign of life.

By early evening, he was pretty close to the wagon. It had been pulled off the road; the road being two wagon wheel tracks worn through the long grass. There was still no movement.

"Well, come on," he urged the horse on and whistled for his dog to follow. But as he continued on, he glanced back to realize that the dog wasn't listening. And it wasn't coming, either. "Coop!" he snapped.

The dog was purposely ignoring him. It wasn't something he did often, but occasionally he'd get on a scent and decide that he was going to follow it, no matter what. This must be one of those times.

Anson groaned and rolled his head around in a circle, trying to relieve the tension in his neck. He just wanted to make camp, get something to eat and get some sleep. Instead, he had to go looking for his dog and try to convince him that whatever he was following wasn't that important.

"Coop, I swear, if you're digging up worms again, I'm going to leave you here!" he grumbled, turning the horse back towards the wagon.

As he neared the wagon, he saw a team of horses tethered nearby. From the looks of things, the wagon hadn't moved in several days and he dismounted and peered inside. No sign of anyone, but it was obvious by the contents that there was a woman traveling.

"Hello!" he called softly, but there was no answer and he walked around to the other side of the wagon, skidding to a stop at what he saw.

The woman looked to be no older than twenty and was digging a hole about fifteen yards away from the wagon. Her face, hands and even her dress were smeared with blood and she was dirty and sweating.

"Is everything alright, ma'am?" he asked.

She was startled by his voice and looked up, nearly dropping the shovel. "Everything's fine." She managed. He could see that she'd been crying. She continued digging.

Next to the hole,if it could be called that yet as it wasn't very deep and it was obvious she'd been at it for a while now, was what appeared to be a body wrapped in a heavy woolen blanket. Next to the wagon, in the shade was another bundle that he couldn't quite identify.

"What happened here?" he asked.

Her shoulders slumped and she stopped digging for a moment, resting her chin on the shovel's handle. "And what business is that of yours?" she asked.

"Well, I guess it's none of my business, except that there appears to be a dead man right there and I'm a.... well I was a U.S. Marshall."

"I didn't kill him, if that's what you're wondering."

He looked her up and down. She was slender, average height and looked strong enough,but the body in the blanket looked like he'd been a sturdy man at one time. "No, I don't think you killed him."

The small bundle next to the wagon moved and she dropped the shovel and hurried over to it, pulling out a baby that appeared to be no more than two days old.

"How did he die,if you don't mind me asking?"

"I'm not really sure." She replied. "He had a fever. And he'd been complaining that his gut hurt."