Read Online Bright Morning Star by J. R. Biery - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: J. R. Biery
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worrying about her.
“Then you should have stayed in Boston. As I told the lads, the Indians along this way won’t be a problem, at least ‘till you cross the Missouri. But you never know when vagabonds and robbers might attack a lone wagon train. With four helpless children, four beautiful white women, and only two men to defend them, you better start carrying your weapons and know how to use them.”
He turned and saluted the twins as they raised their fingers in a smart salute to him. Father Wimberley nodded, and the boys ran after their new hero. By the time they had fired their rounds, the men had circled the wagons for the night early and quartered the deer. With the women busy cooking the meal, Calum wasn’t surprised to see the two men walk up carrying all their weapons.
<><><>
Claire stood over the pile of wet wood. She held her mother’s striker and flint and took a deep breath before trying again. The white spark landed on the wet bark and went out. She was so flustered and tired, but so were all the others. She looked at Henry and his mouth curved down in sympathy, but he raised his empty hands and shrugged. She watched where his hands still dripped pink before Mary Anne poured another ladle over his hands for him.
Her Father set the deer haunch down on the bench beside her and patted his daughter’s shoulder. “You need dry kindling. Put a pile under your wet logs, then light it.” He looked to where the scattered gunfire was coming from.
“Sorry, we promised, we’d be next.”
“You and Henry are going to learn to shoot? She asked in surprise.
He stared at his only child, smiled in spite of himself and bent to kiss her cheek. “I’ll ask the Lieutenant, he may have some trick of the trade for starting a blaze with wet wood.”
She went to the third wagon where her Father had stored all the tools and parts he hoped to sale. A man coughed behind her and Claire stepped down quickly, her hands full of a single dried corned shuck and a bit of straw. She stepped back despite herself.
“Miss, sorry to startle you. Your Father said you could use a little help.”
Claire blushed, the man was breathtaking in his bold blue and yellow uniform. There was something familiar about his blue, knowing eyes.
He removed his hat and gave a small bow. “Calum Douglas, at your service.”
Claire smiled, her spirits suddenly bright. He had said it just like a gentleman at a ball. She curtsied and extended her hand for him to help raise her up. “Claire Wimberley, thank you, sir. Do you know how I can start a fire with this wet stuff?”
A minute later he knelt, used his knife to uncap a bullet and dumped it over the small dry kindling she had found. He pocketed the lead shot and took her flint and striker. In a poof the flame shot up, with a sizzle and pop the wood began to burn.
“Is this what you’re cooking for supper?”
Claire nodded, trying to not look as inept as she felt. Tom and Jim had followed him over and were watching in awe. Boys, run cut me a couple of forked trees, about this big around. He held out his finger.
They held up their hands. Calum glowered fiercely. “Right, I guess knives would be too dangerous as well.”
He turned and, using his knife, whacked through the top of a young tree, then he cut the spreading limbs off. In minutes he had the thin slices of the deer skewered over the fire. “After you finish cooking tonight’s supper, just put the other haunch up and leave it over the fire all night.”
“Bonnie usually puts the beans over the fire for the next day.”
“You can put both up.”
He tipped his hat to her and the other two women who were now coming out of the woods. “Good-day, ladies, later.”
Calum was glad he had been working with green recruits the last month. He needed every bit of his patience. Robert Wimberley was afraid of guns, a challenge in itself. Henry Lambton was just uninterested in them. Although reluctant, Calum was able to
“Then you should have stayed in Boston. As I told the lads, the Indians along this way won’t be a problem, at least ‘till you cross the Missouri. But you never know when vagabonds and robbers might attack a lone wagon train. With four helpless children, four beautiful white women, and only two men to defend them, you better start carrying your weapons and know how to use them.”
He turned and saluted the twins as they raised their fingers in a smart salute to him. Father Wimberley nodded, and the boys ran after their new hero. By the time they had fired their rounds, the men had circled the wagons for the night early and quartered the deer. With the women busy cooking the meal, Calum wasn’t surprised to see the two men walk up carrying all their weapons.
<><><>
Claire stood over the pile of wet wood. She held her mother’s striker and flint and took a deep breath before trying again. The white spark landed on the wet bark and went out. She was so flustered and tired, but so were all the others. She looked at Henry and his mouth curved down in sympathy, but he raised his empty hands and shrugged. She watched where his hands still dripped pink before Mary Anne poured another ladle over his hands for him.
Her Father set the deer haunch down on the bench beside her and patted his daughter’s shoulder. “You need dry kindling. Put a pile under your wet logs, then light it.” He looked to where the scattered gunfire was coming from.
“Sorry, we promised, we’d be next.”
“You and Henry are going to learn to shoot? She asked in surprise.
He stared at his only child, smiled in spite of himself and bent to kiss her cheek. “I’ll ask the Lieutenant, he may have some trick of the trade for starting a blaze with wet wood.”
She went to the third wagon where her Father had stored all the tools and parts he hoped to sale. A man coughed behind her and Claire stepped down quickly, her hands full of a single dried corned shuck and a bit of straw. She stepped back despite herself.
“Miss, sorry to startle you. Your Father said you could use a little help.”
Claire blushed, the man was breathtaking in his bold blue and yellow uniform. There was something familiar about his blue, knowing eyes.
He removed his hat and gave a small bow. “Calum Douglas, at your service.”
Claire smiled, her spirits suddenly bright. He had said it just like a gentleman at a ball. She curtsied and extended her hand for him to help raise her up. “Claire Wimberley, thank you, sir. Do you know how I can start a fire with this wet stuff?”
A minute later he knelt, used his knife to uncap a bullet and dumped it over the small dry kindling she had found. He pocketed the lead shot and took her flint and striker. In a poof the flame shot up, with a sizzle and pop the wood began to burn.
“Is this what you’re cooking for supper?”
Claire nodded, trying to not look as inept as she felt. Tom and Jim had followed him over and were watching in awe. Boys, run cut me a couple of forked trees, about this big around. He held out his finger.
They held up their hands. Calum glowered fiercely. “Right, I guess knives would be too dangerous as well.”
He turned and, using his knife, whacked through the top of a young tree, then he cut the spreading limbs off. In minutes he had the thin slices of the deer skewered over the fire. “After you finish cooking tonight’s supper, just put the other haunch up and leave it over the fire all night.”
“Bonnie usually puts the beans over the fire for the next day.”
“You can put both up.”
He tipped his hat to her and the other two women who were now coming out of the woods. “Good-day, ladies, later.”
Calum was glad he had been working with green recruits the last month. He needed every bit of his patience. Robert Wimberley was afraid of guns, a challenge in itself. Henry Lambton was just uninterested in them. Although reluctant, Calum was able to
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