“We will each take turns bathing tonight,” Opal was telling her as they both lowered the back gate of one of the wagons. “We will have to be very cautious and discreet, what with those traders along. Heaven knows if they can truly be trusted.” The woman looked at her almost scathingly. “You must be extra careful, considering your widowed status, Miranda. You must understand how some men look at a thing like that.”
Miranda caught the suggestion, felt the hurt. “If my being a widow so disturbs you, Opal, why did any of you agree to allow me to come along? Everything was fine in the beginning. I thought we were becoming quite good friends. I might as well say it out, because I am tired of the way all of you have been treating me lately. I have done absolutely nothing to deserve your turning on me. I don’t like any of this, and I want to know why it is happening.”
The woman stiffened, leaning a little closer, her usually meek demeanor suddenly, surprisingly stern and full of warning. “You seemed a very discreet, Christian young lady in the beginning; but you have been much too friendly with my nephew Clarence. Don’t you understand that a young man that age is easily swayed by a beautiful, available woman he thinks is in need of a man? He looks at you as experienced and lonely, and he has confessed to my husband that the way you look at him makes him think sinful things.”
Miranda’s eyes widened with indignation. Fury boiled within her, but she fought to keep her voice down, realizing that to be overheard by the men would only make her look worse, not better. “I know exactly what your nephew is thinking, Opal, and it isn’t because of anything I have done! I have tried to stay away from him, but he won’t leave me alone! If you want the truth, I can’t stand Clarence Jennings, and if he doesn’t stay away from me, I’ll use the same pistol on him I used on Jake Harkner! You tell him to stay away from me and stop spreading lies about me! I have no desire to tempt any man on this wagon train! I am here for one thing only, and that is to get to Nevada!”
She whirled and began angrily taking down pans and other necessities for the evening meal. Opal watched her a moment, wanting to believe her. But, after all, Clarence would never lie. He was a good, Christian young man who had never done anything but make his father proud of him. Miranda Hayes must not even realize how she was tempting the poor boy. The woman walked to the second wagon, where her husband was helping unhitch the oxen. She pulled him aside.
“I think perhaps we should consider helping Miranda find someone else to travel with when we reach the next fort, Wilbur. I am afraid this whole thing with Clarence may get out of hand. Perhaps we made a wrong decision letting her come along.”
The reverend sighed, removing his hat and running a hand through his thinning red hair. “I agree. I will think about it over the next few days, discuss it with John and Berny and Father. I hate to abandon her that way, but if she’s at a fort, she’ll be safe until she finds other traveling companions. This is partly our fault for being so quick to take her in. I was just so anxious to have a traveling companion for you that I didn’t consider that her being such an attractive widow might cause problems with all these men along. I’ll pray about it.”
“Thank you, Wilbur.” Opal returned to her work, feeling Miranda’s anger as they worked together to prepare supper. It was really too bad they would probably have to leave poor Miranda behind, but Opal could not think what else to do. After all, the family and Christian values came first.
***
Miranda sat down on a stump, wondering if she had ever felt more alone. Another week of putting up with stares and cold shoulders had passed since she had told Opal exactly what she thought. Thank goodness Clarence had stayed away from her lately, but several times she had seen the reverend talking privately with his brothers and father, knew they were discussing her. This hell had to end somewhere, and she had decided to come here to be alone to pray and think. She had decided that she would face the reverend and the others head-on, speak up to them before they could pompously come to her first. Her anger was taking over the hurt now. It was time to stand up to the Jenningses and get everything out in the open, even though they were the ones in charge. Enough was enough.
She put her head in her hands, listening to the soft, night breeze in the cottonwood trees. The wagon train was perhaps twenty yards away, and for the moment it felt good to be entirely alone, away from the looks and the whispers. She listened to crickets, grateful that a breeze the last two nights had kept the mosquitoes at bay.
What a fool you were to think you could go running off to Nevada, she told herself. You should have listened to Jake, listened to Sheriff McCleave. She had never been attracted to the sheriff, but right now being back in Kansas City and letting him court her sounded wonderful. She was sure none of her friends back there considered her as some kind of wanton woman just because she was a widow. They had known Mack, knew how hard his death had been on her. She could still be with them, but instead she had chosen this pain and discomfort and danger just to find a brother who probably didn’t want to be found. It had seemed so important at the time. What was left for her if she couldn’t find Wesley? Would she have lost all that was Miranda Baker Hayes?