A Change of Plans

Chapter Seven

His eyes flew open and he nearly hit his head on the underside of the wagon as he sat up. The baby was crying and he wondered if something was wrong. Then he heard Olivia's soft voice. He listened as she calmed the baby and then all was quiet. Lying back down, he closed his eyes.

"Did you sleep okay?" he asked the next morning when Olivia stepped down from the wagon.

The sun was already up and she knew she'd overslept. "Fine, thank you. I'm sorry it's so late. We probably should have started already."

"It's fine. You needed the rest." He replied. "Besides, I figured we'd take it slow today. I wasn't thinking we'd get very far anyway."

After breakfast, Olivia packed up the few dishes they'd used and Anson harnessed the horses. He was about to help her up into the seat when the baby began to cry and Olivia looked up at him with an apologetic look. "I'm going to have to nurse her." She said.

It was nearly a half hour before the baby decided she'd had enough and Olivia laid her in the basket behind the seat.

"Are we ready?"

"Yes," she replied, putting her foot on the wheel to climb up.

He was suddenly right there behind her and helped her up. "We'll take it slow," he reminded her. "I'll be keeping an eye out for game."

"Alright,"

"And we'll stop early if you like."

"Thank you."

He nodded and walked to his horse, climbing easily into the saddle. Then they were off.

It was early in the afternoon when Anson spotted something in the distance. "I'll be back soon." He said. "I think I saw some pheasant just past those trees there. It looks like there's a creek or something just up the way there. If you want to stop there for the night, I'll catch up with you there."

"Alright," She said, driving on as he headed off into the open prairie.

It had been over an hour and he still hadn't come across the fowl he'd spotted earlier. He wondered if he'd actually seen anything at all. But then movement caught his eye and he raised the rifle to his shoulder. The large bird was slowly strutting across a small clearing as he moved his finger to the trigger. He was just about to fire a shot when a faint scream in the distance made him jerk around.

His heart pounded in his chest as he heard the scream again and he vaulted into the saddle, nearly dropping the rifle. He'd forgotten all about the bird.

He wasn't as far away from the wagon as he'd first thought, but it still seemed to take forever to reach it. It was just where he'd said she should stop for the night, but there was no sign of Olivia. The baby was crying loudly, laying in the basket on the ground. Her blankets were strewn about on the ground and he hurried over to check that she was unhurt.

He hesitantly placed his hand on her belly. The touch must have been reassuring, for she calmed down immediately and her cries became more from hurt feelings than from fear as they had been.

"Olivia!" he shouted. There was no answer and he hurried to the back of the wagon to look inside. Perhaps she was sick.

The sight of all of her belongings thrown out of the back of the wagon and strewn all over the ground made him think otherwise and he began looking for tracks. Someone else had been there.

Near the front of the wagon, close to where he'd found the baby, Anson spotted marks in the hard dirt that looked as though someone had been dragging their feet and he ran in that direction.