Cassie's Surprise Read online

  Cassie’s Surprise

  Lockets and Lace

  Book 21

  2020

  Patricia PacJac Carroll

  Cassie’s Surprise Lockets and Lace Book 21 ~ Author Patricia PacJac Carroll

  Copyright © March 2020

  Published by Patricia PacJac Carroll @ PacJac Publishing

  ALL rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, (except for inclusion in reviews), disseminated or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, or audio. Including photocopying, recording, or in any information storage and retrieval system, or the Internet/World Wide Web without written permission from the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Book Cover by Virginia McKevitt

  Author Patricia PacJac Carroll Newsletter

  http://eepurl.com/bpPmbP

  Patricia PacJac Carroll Amazon Author Page

  http://www.amazon.com/Patricia-PacJac-Carroll/e/B008R9JCN2/

  Follow me on my fb page

  https://www.facebook.com/PatriciaPacJacCarrollAuthor/?ref=settings

  Website PatriciaPacJacCarroll.com https://patriciapacjaccarroll.com/

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Epilogue

  Cassie’s Surprise

  1853

  The Oregon Trail

  Chapter 1

  With hands on her hips, Aunt Ethel stared at Cassie. “Go over there and help Sean with the oxen.”

  Cassie’s aunt had her usual look of disapproval. Whether it was aimed at Cassie or her uncle, she wasn’t sure. With a disgusted sigh of her own, Cassie ran to help her. Shaking her head, Cassie saw the big red ox stubbornly sitting down. “Mozart, what are you doing?”

  Looking embarrassed and hen-pecked, Uncle Sean shrugged. “I can’t get the beast up. When Mozart doesn’t want to go, the others follow his lead.”

  Cassie went to the giant ox at the front of the team. “Moz, you're a bad boy again. Please, get going, or we’ll never get to Oregon.” She tugged on the beast’s horns. “Remember, I’ve told you about Oregon. A land of milk and honey. Lush green grass that grows as high as your belly, and you’ll never have to work another day in your life. But we need you now. And the others, Bach, Beethoven, and Chopin, they won’t go unless you lead the way.”

  Slowly, Mozart stood and stepped forward. He snorted, let out a big sigh, and picked up the pace to keep up with the other wagons.

  Cassie smiled at Uncle Sean. “There we go.”

  “You’re a wonder with the animals, Cassie. Thank you.” He kept his pace with the oxen and tapped them with the guide stick as needed.

  Wishing she could do the same to Aunt Ethel, Cassie whispered to her uncle. “Is it all right if I visit Abbie?” Cassie preferred walking with her friend than being with her aunt and cousins. Abbie was the same age, and they’d confided with one another about what they thought they’d find in Oregon. Of course, their conversation usually turned to the husbands they expected to find.

  Uncle Sean looked back to the wagon. “It’s fine with me. Might check with Ethel. Annette and Babette have been tired, so they’re riding in the wagon.”

  Cassie rolled her eyes. No wonder Mozart didn’t want to pull the wagon with the three women riding inside. Not to mention all the heavy furniture and goods Aunt Ethel had stuffed inside.

  Already, Cassie knew she’d be responsible for finding the fire starters. Chips, they called them. Cow pies and buffalo pies were other names. A dirty job, but there weren’t many trees on the prairie for firewood. Pioneers quickly learned the value of buffalo and cow dung in starting fires on the trail.

  She walked back to the wagon and hoped her aunt wouldn’t see her, yet Cassie knew better. Aunt Ethel had a third eye as sharp as an eagle’s, and she always caught Cassie before she could leave to visit Abbie. Of course, Annette and Babette got away without doing anything. It bothered Uncle Sean, but he never spoke up.

  Her cousin, Annette, was a year younger than Cassie’s twenty-one years, and Babette was three years younger. Her cousins were spoiled and of not much use to anyone mostly because Aunt Ethel let them do whatever they wanted or nothing, as was the usual case.

  Cassie had almost made it past the wagon when Aunt Ethel yelled out. “Cassie, you better start gathering the chips for the fire.”

  “Yes, Ma’am.” Cassie knew not to argue. It was her payment for staying with the family. Sometimes, Cassie found it to be a high price to pay, but then the idea of being alone frightened her more than the chores.

  After taking the bucket from the back of the wagon, Cassie called out to Abbie in the wagon behind them. “Let’s collect chips.”

  Her friend grinned. “You mean, Nik-Nik.” Abbie laughed and ran to grab her bucket.

  “Yes, although I like the term meadow muffins much better.” Cassie laughed and met Abbie on the side of the wagons. “Isn’t it amazing how God made so many bison on the plains so that the pioneers would have fuel for fires?”

  Abbie nodded. “You never cease to amaze me how you can find God in everything. Even to thank Him for buffalo dung.”

  “Well, I have learned that life can be a challenge, but if I look for the blessings that the Lord sprinkles about me, it makes life so much more pleasant.” Cassie smiled at a red flower rising out of the prairie and pointed it out to her friend.

  Abbie sighed. “I guess you’re right. It couldn’t have been easy for you to lose your parents and have to live with your aunt and uncle and those girls. They don’t ever smile.”

  “Annette and Babette can be a burden. I don’t know why they are always so disgruntled. They should be out walking like the rest of us. Mozart tells me they are too heavy to be in the wagon.”

  Laughing, Abbie threw a cow chip at her. “Really, Cassie, you think you can talk to the oxen. I suppose you can talk to the birds and the horses, too.”

  Cassie picked up a meadow muffin and put it in the bucket. “Oh, I just get an idea of what they’re thinking. I wish we could have brought Jack with us. I loved that little dog.”

  Abbie frowned. “We had to leave so much to go on this venture, but Papa says Oregon will be worth it all.”

  Cassie picked up another chip and almost had half a bucketful. “Do you ever wonder who you’re going to marry?”

  Abbie nodded. “Yes. Sometimes, I fear that I left my man back in Missouri. What if I missed out, and now, I end up an old maid?”

  “With you’re beautiful blond hair? You’re sure to find a man. As for me, I just don’t know if anyone will want to marry me. Aunt Ethel says I’m too skinny and my hair too fine and wispy, not to mention the odd color.”

  “Cassie, you’re a beautiful woman waiting to mature. You’ll have no trouble finding the right man. I’ve been looking about, and several young men on our wagon train do not have wives. There is talk of a dance.”

  Cassie bent to pick up a few more muffins. “Well, I’m sure Aunt Ethel will say that I have too many chores, and she won’t let me go, but it would be fun. I love dancing. What would your perfect man look like?”

  Abbie stopped and stretched her back. “My man will be tall and have dark hair. An
d a mustache. I’ve always liked them. I dream about what it must be like to kiss a man with a mustache.”

  Cassie laughed. “You’re so funny.”

  “I suppose it would be like kissing a fuzzy caterpillar. Anyway, I want him to be strong, so he can pick me up and twirl me around. He will have blue eyes that adore me. A deep voice, to tell me how much he loves me. So far, I haven’t found him.” Abbie looked up. “We better catch up to the wagons.”

  The wagons had moved far up the trail. Cassie nodded. “Yes, we better.”

  Abbie ran beside her. “All right, I told you about my dream man. What is your idea of the perfect man, Cassie?”

  “Oh, I don’t have any ideas. I’m not sure I’ll ever belong to anyone. I guess I’ve been alone for so long that I don’t know what it would be like to belong to another person.” Cassie dodged a prickly plant and then stopped to wait for Abbie.

  Untangling herself from a briar, Abbie stared at her. “You have your uncle’s family.”

  “Yes, but they, well, I hardly feel like I am one of them. Aunt Ethel treats me like I’m the hired help, and Annette and Babette despise me even though we’re almost the same age. At least, Annette and I are. Babette is a couple of years younger.”

  “What is wrong with your cousins?”

  Laughing, Cassie threw another chip into her bucket. “They’re spoiled as milk that’s been left out in the sun for a week. Aunt Ethel lets them get away with everything. Uncle Sean is nice to me, but sometimes, I think he feels like an outsider in his own family.”

  “My ma said that very thing. I don’t think she likes your aunt, and my mama likes everyone.” Abbie ran a few yards.

  Cassie caught up to her. “Well, I would like to find a wonderful man. Like a prince. He’d be respectable and mannerly and ride a fine horse. He’d also be strong and would sweep me off my feet.”

  Abbie laughed. “We’ve only been on the trail for a few weeks, and already I feel like I’ve walked a thousand miles.”

  “Yes, me too. We could pray for one another to find the right man so that we don’t wind up old maids. Although some days after walking behind the wagons, I feel like an old maid, and I’m not even twenty-two yet.”

  Abbie grinned. “I do, too. I’m hoping we can meet more people on the train, but by the time we stop for the night, I am so tired I can’t go another step.”

  Cassie patted her bucket. “Mine is full. Do you need more?”

  Abbie frowned. “Of course, I do. You’re such a hard worker.”

  After putting some chips in her friend’s bucket, Cassie went about picking up a few more meadow muffins. “Sometimes, I become afraid because I don’t see a future for myself. I feel like this will be my life forever. Just doing chores for Aunt Ethel.”

  “Cassie! That is so sad. Don’t you ever think of Oregon?”

  “Only when I am trying to get Mozart to move.” Cassie laughed. “I guess I should try and think about what my ideal husband will be like. I think deep down, I’m afraid I’ll be disappointed. What if he’s a mousy man that is afraid of his own shadow?”

  Abbie put a hand on her hip. “Oh, Cassie. What if he doesn’t speak English?”

  Cassie laughed. “Then we wouldn’t have disagreements.”

  “What if he is shorter than you?”

  “Then I would kiss the top of his head.” Cassie grinned. Abbie was a good one to find fun in just about anything.

  “Look, the wagons stopped.” Abbie pointed.

  Cassie nodded. “I wonder why. We better catch up.” She ran, holding her bucket so that she didn’t lose her chips while Abbie followed behind, muttering about her sore feet.

  ***

  Travis Andrews cracked his whip and drove his herd of horses and mules toward the wagon train. His partner, Matthew Ryan, was on the other side pushing the animals toward the wagons.

  Travis figured the wagons had been going less than two weeks. He’d hoped they might find a few pioneers who were tired of walking. Not to mention that some might need to replace stock that had been injured, died, or run off.

  He remembered the first wagon train he helped, one of the wagons had horses older than his twenty-two years. That was two years ago, and he learned that he could make a fair amount of money from travelers.

  Travis had tried selling his stock farther up the trail, but the pioneers quickly ran out of money. Now was the best time.

  Matthew rode over to him. “You really want to join this train?”

  Travis nodded. “I do. I’m tired of the plains and sharing my horses with the Indians.”

  Matt grinned. “You have a funny way of looking at things. I agree, though. What are we going to do for a wagon?”

  “We’ll trade our stock for a place in a wagon. Either the leader will have room or one of the pioneers. We might be able to offer to drive a wagon if there’s a widow in need.”

  “They’ve only been out a few weeks. Hardly time for much hardship to fall on them.”

  Travis cracked the whip at the ornery gray mare that spent most of the day trying to break away. “I’m tired of living out here alone. I want to go to Oregon and settle down. Find a wife and raise a half-dozen kids.”

  Matt grinned and pushed his hat lower on his head. “Yeah, that does sound good. I guess I’ll tag along if you don’t mind.”

  Travis smiled at his friend and partner. “I don’t mind at all. Truth be told, I’d hate to break up our partnership.” He pointed. “Here comes the wagon master. Recognize him?”

  “Nope.”

  Travis waited until the man rode to them.

  A big man with broad shoulders and white wavy hair nodded at them. “Hi there. I’m Justin Watkins and captain of this group.”

  Travis nodded. “Travis Andrews, and that’s my partner, Matthew Ryan. We’ve got a herd of horses and mules and would like to see if your train could use any.”

  Watkins smiled. “I was hoping that was the case. We have a few wagons that could use some, and I think a few men are tired of walking.”

  Travis pointed at the livestock. “Most are broke to saddle and harness. I’ll give a discount for that gray mare, but whoever buys her is going to have to tie her up. She likes to run off.”

  Watkins nodded. “We’re about to stop for the night. I’ll let you conduct your business. The folks might be tired, but there’s a couple who need new animals.”

  Travis sent Matt after a few horses breaking away, and then Travis looked back to Watkins. “We also would like to travel along with your train. We can trade some animals for goods and a place in a wagon. We’re used to sleeping under the stars, so we don’t need much. We can hunt for food.”

  Watkins took off his hat and rubbed his temples. “I don’t know. I don’t really have a place for you. I guess it might be all right if you hunt for your food. I know I’ve got a few extra supplies.”

  After chasing the stock back into the herd, Matt rode beside Travis. “We can buy supplies in the next town. Maybe even a wagon if we can pick one up, depending on how many horses we sell.”

  Watkins nodded. “I guess we can accommodate you. Traveling this way, I guess you can never have enough good men with guns. I heard the Indians were making trouble up ahead.”

  Travis nodded. “We heard that too. We both have rifles and pistols. And ammunition. Just tell us where you need us the most. With our herd, we’d be best at the back of the train, so our dust doesn’t bother you.”

  Watkins nodded. “Good. If you want, go ahead and travel up and down the lines and see if anyone wants your horses or mules.”

  “Yes, sir.” Travis pointed at the wagons. “Which do you want to do, Matt? Stay with the herd or peddle the livestock?”

  Matt shook his head. “You know me. I don’t talk like you do. You have the silver tongue. Go and sell our livestock.”

  Travis grinned. “I’ll be back before we’re set to leave and help you drive them to the rear of the train.”

  Reining his sorrel mustang to the
first wagon, Travis dismounted and led his horse. The driver was standing by the wagon and watching him. Travis smiled at him and held out his hand for a shake. “I’ve got good livestock for sale. If you need a horse or mule, we have them.”

  The driver shook his hand. “I’m set for now. But three wagons back, they’re missing a horse.”

  “Thanks.” Travis walked to the third wagon and saw they were missing a horse. He nodded at the driver. “Did you have some trouble?”

  The lean man who had the weathered face of a farmer was just unharnessing his horses. “Sure did. Rattler got my lead horse. I’ll take one if they’re broke to harness.”

  “We’ve got some of the best. If you go up to the front of the lead wagon, my partner is there with the herd. He’ll point out the best wagon horses and mules.”

  “Thank you. I was praying for a replacement. It’s put a hard burden on the other three animals, and we’ve only just started.”

  Travis nodded and peeked inside the wagon. “I’ll tell you now, you’d be best to get rid of most of the furniture. You haven’t even hit the high country.”

  “I told the Missus that, but she just won’t let it go.”

  Travis shrugged. “She will, later.” He left the man and walked to the next wagon. They had mules, but one of them held up its right leg. Travis felt the animal’s foreleg and then pointed out that the mule had a hot tendon. “He’s going lame. Better if you just turn him loose and give him a chance to heal.”

  The owner of the wagon was a woman, but she looked tougher than leather. “That might be, but I don’t have any extra money.” She spat out a chaw of tobacco. “Melton, come over here and let that mule go. I won’t see an animal suffer.”

  “Ma’am, that’s going to be a tough load with a missing animal. My partner has plenty of good mules to replace him with.” Travis wondered where her husband was.