IT'S DAYBREAK. I'VE sat for nearly two hours waitin' for this moment. My horses have to be wonderin' what the heck I've been doin', just sittin' in the dark between 'em, quiet with my thoughts of bein' with Gentry. Funny how you get used to a life with someone, and you just assume they'll be there when you wake up or go to sleep. Sometimes you have a picnic together and sometimes you bring your bear, and sometimes you're both too busy doin' other things to spend much time together, but you're both a shout away, so you're still together. Sometimes things are great and sometimes they ain't, but you know even durin' the bad times you can walk a few steps and make things better, or they can walk a few steps and do the same. Or you can both be pig-headed about some silly somethin' and keep your distance, but you're even doin' that together.
These last three days have taught me what it means to be apart from Gentry. We ain't actually been apart since we met, 'cept for a few days on our trip out west together, when I had to help carry Gentry's friend, Scarlett over the prairie by foot. 'Course, we weren't an official couple at that point, so it weren't as tough as these last three days.
I climb on Major and hold Steel on a lead, and before headin' east, I make a wide circle around the trail to make sure I haven't missed Gentry and Rose.
I haven't, so I start movin'.
Around one o'clock I'm passin' the trail that leads to Stafford, which tells me I'm a little more than a hundred miles east of Dodge. One of Emma's regulars hails from Stafford and swears it's exactly one hundred and five miles from Dodge. I don't know how he can be that accurate, but I know his calculation ain't far off at any rate.
Every moment of the ride I'm dartin' my head this way and that, concentratin' my focus on every wagon in sight, and that's about twenty a minute. But for the last two hours I know I'm close, very close, so I'm movin' slower and searchin' harder. There ain't no hills here, it's all flat. But there are some small rises that give you longer views. And it's right here, just beyond the trail that leads to Stafford, where I see somethin' a mile ahead that just sort of feels right. I stand in my stirrups, crane my neck, and focus on the wagon bein' pulled by two oxen, with what appears to be two women, and one of 'em wearin' what could be a yellow bonnet.
People are comin' and goin' in all directions. I see five Union soldiers headin' toward me at a trot. I wave at 'em, and they nod as they pass. I spur Major into a quick trot, not too fast just yet, 'cause I don't want to pass the real wagon while chasin' the one that might be carryin' my Gentry. It'd be easy to miss her and Rose, if they're travelin' wide, 'cause in this area the trail fans out more than a quarter mile. So I'm lookin' left and right, but concentratin' harder on the wagon in front of me, the one that's headin' up the next rise. I'm starin' as hard as I can, and suddenly I realize I don't have to stare so hard.
It's them!
Without a doubt, it's the two women I care most about in the world! Rose has the oxen exactly where they're supposed to be, right in the center of the trail, and they're just about to pass the next rise.
I'm ridin' as fast as I can now, without losin' Steel, and when I get a half mile behind the wagon, I shout, "Gentry!" at the top of my lungs.
She can't hear me yet. There's too much travelin' noise. The thirty or forty wagons in front and behind her are all makin' groanin', creaky, squeaky wagon sounds. And there's a wind blowin' left to right that's strong enough to drown my words.
But no matter. I'm ridin' swift, and I'll be on top of 'em in three minutes, on the other side of the rise. I wonder if Gentry will turn to see me barellin' in on 'em, just before they crest the small hill. It'd be the perfect place to turn around and look.
But I hope she don't turn around and see me, 'cause I got a fun idea.
I'm gonna crest the hill and slow down, and just sort of sneak up on 'em with a speed walk. I'm gonna slide right past 'em, like I've never seen 'em before in my life, and as I pass, I'll turn toward 'em and tip my hat and say, "Ladies," and keep goin' twenty or thirty yards before turnin' around and grinnin'.
Rose'll roll her eyes and smile, but Gentry'll think it's hilarious.
They're crestin'. Don't turn around, Gentry, you'll spoil the surprise!
They hit the crest, Gentry turns halfway around to the right, bless her heart, but I'm comin' up behind 'em on the left, and just before she can pivot and look the other way, their wagon is headin' down the other side of the slope. I'm two minutes behind, and I can't wait. I spur Major into a canter and silently swear I'm never gonna leave Gentry's side again, as long as I live. My horse is flyin', my heart's racin', but everything goes black a minute, and when I come to, I find I'm lyin' on the ground, on my back. And my head feels like someone smacked me with a two by four. And when the five Union soldiers gather around me, I feel like things may have taken a bad turn.
"Gentry!" I scream with all my might.
At least I think I screamed her name before I blacked out again.