A Love So Bold
by Anon Allsop

The story continues - Hope you enjoy!

-Eight-

Tears filled her eyes as she rode into the dark, back toward the trail where she had found the canteen. In the bright moonlight, she found the trail and once again headed west. Behind her she left her former identity, a corpse forever clothed in feminine garments.

She glanced behind her; the trees and rocks were only a blackened shadow upon the horizon. Ezrah’s passing was now only marked by the pile of stone covering the young mother's body…it was too confusing! Grimly she wondered if hundreds of years from now, some archaeologist like those who have stumbled upon the strange bones of past monsters, might locate the altered bones of... Ezrah. What might they think about him, wondering why he was clothed as he had been?

She sighed, and looked down at the tiny charge asleep in her arms. She felt sorry for herself… to be so young and saddled with such great responsibility. She knew that women all over this great big world have been taking on responsibilities like this for thousands of years, so why should she be any different?

The situation she found herself in was overwhelming; her mind became a vast turmoil of emotion. She constantly sobbed in desperation as the baby and she rode slowly in the dark. Her legs ached because in her new form she was slightly shorter than Ezrah had been; this made the stirrups too long, and forced her to dangle her legs from each side with only her toes touching the stirrup. She had forgotten to adjust them prior to leaving, and the added weight of her legs hanging was causing them to become numb.

To alleviate the tingling feeling of numbness, she was forced to stand from time to time, but it didn't help for very long, as she was only able to rise up on her toes to alleviate the numbness for only a short while. She knew that at some point when she climbed down from the tall horse, she had to be extremely careful with Emma or she could fall.

As night wore on, she had to stop in the middle of nowhere, long enough to nurse the child. After her earlier lesson back at the water-hole, she did not want a repeat and as much as it loathed her to admit, it did provide necessary relief from the discomfort of being 'full'.

It had become cloudy during the night so as morning broke, she and little 'Em' rode on. She had given the child the 'nick-name' while she nursed her during the night. It wasn't as formal sounding and to her ears, would be simple enough to use from day to day.

As the day wore on, she became hungrier and hungrier. Blackie was fine because there was plenty of grass for him to eat, and nursing Em would take care of the immediate need of the infant. But what had her concerned the most is that if she couldn't eat, and it was prolonged for more days, it meant that her body would produce less and less milk for the baby. Even though she could hold out for a day, she needed to eat for the both of them. She worried as she contemplated what needed to be done; already she loathed thinking like a ‘responsible’ woman.

Again her mind returned to the newness of responsibility, it was more important to her now than ever as Ezrah. All he ever had to worry about was whether he fed the animals and cleaned their stalls before bedtime. Now as Em's... surrogate mother, she literally held the fate of the tot in her hands.

Always she would scan the horizon looking for sign of Indians or better yet, other settlers headed west, abandoned wagons... anything that may help her and Em live another day. As the afternoon approached, with arms aching from continually holding the infant, only gaining a moment of respite when she shifted her to the opposite arm. She spied an abandoned wagon down in a shallow ravine. Cautiously she rode Blackie to it.

It wasn’t a wagon as she had initially thought; it was a small two wheeled cart. It was just about all she could do to lower herself down from the large horse without dropping baby Em, thankfully she was able to step into the tongue of the cart and remain there until the feeling returned again to her legs.

She placed Em in the front of the cart; the back end was high into the air with all the weight resting on the tongue. She slowly walked around the little cart, examining it, looking for any reason why it would have been abandoned. She guessed that it couldn't have been there for longer than two weeks as the harnesses were still on the ground where they had been dropped. Slowly she moved Blackie to a tree and tied the reins fast, removed the saddle and blanket, putting them into the back of the little cart.

She moved back to the harnesses and stood examining them, making sure that everything was there. Meanwhile, it began to sprinkle. She picked up Em and then noticed a wooden box under the seat. Inside of it was a bottle of liquor and a bag of pipe tobacco, and underneath the tobacco were three home-canned jars of bread and butter pickles.

The rain grew steady, so Hannah moved Em and the box beneath the cart, and then crawled beneath it. As the rain continued to fall she took time out to clean up herself and crudely changed Em. With the onset of darkness, she had pried open one of the jars and using her fingers, and ate the contents within. The first few bites she was unsure if she liked them, but the combination of onion, dill and cucumber floating in a sweet liquid proved to be quite tasty. As she contentedly ate, she nursed Em; not far off Blackie had been tied to a tree and was quietly munching on grass.

-Nine-

Far off a rumble of thunder rolled. Its constant drone made the surrogate mother and child sleepy, giving them welcome rest. In her dreams, young Ezrah found himself sitting on the ground, wearing a dress. His embarrassment was compounded when he realized that he had wet himself. The coolness of his 'accident' slowly came into the forefront of his mind. In his dream, as he put his hand against the ground to raise himself up, his hand landed in about two inches of water.

Instantly her eyes flew open, and she noticed that water was pooling all around the cart. It was still raining hard, with the water inching higher up the spoke of the big wheels on the cart. Like a shot, she scrambled from beneath the cart, pulling Em with her. She placed her into the cart, and then she placed the box she had found and secured the tailgate so nothing would fall out.

Lightning began to flash, as thunder rolled like a great drum on a forgotten battlefield. In a panic, she traced the reins to the tree where Blackie was tied and retrieved him. He fought against the weaker female as the lightning flashed, but to lose him in this wash would be like suicide for both Em and Hannah.

As Blackie danced in fear she quickly began to hitch him to the cart, only pausing long enough to adjust it as she went. By this time, the water was well over her ankles. She ran down the length of reins and climbed up into the seat of the cart, glanced toward Em who was safely secure in the box, and then gave a shrill whistle like her father had done. She quickly snapped the reins, the big horse reared up and tried to run but with all her strength she held him firm, "Don't you go panicking on me, Blackie. Come on boy; get us out of this water!"

He fought against her for about one hundred yards before he realized that he couldn't shake the cart loose, and then he attempted to scramble up the side of the embankment only to have it collapse under his weight sending water and mud flying everywhere.

"Come on boy!" She shouted above the rain and thunder, "You can do it, find us a way out of here!"

The big horse fought against the higher bank of what was now a rapidly rising creek. “Come on, Blackie, and pull like you’ve never pulled before!” she screamed into the wind and rain.

Little by little, the big black horse dragged the cart out of the mire and pulled it to safety on the other side. As soon as their wheels hit solid ground, she began to cry. She sat at the edge of the rapidly flowing water; as Blackie slowly began moving them away in fear of being sucked back in.

She looked down at Em, and then pulled the horse blanket over her to keep some of the rain out. She had no idea which direction she was headed in, she only wanted to be away from the dried creek bed, now made more dangerous than any river she had seen before.

-Ten-

As the morning sun began breaking over the horizon, the surrogate mother raised her head. She had been sleeping throughout the night with Blackie pulling her only God knew where. Tiredly, she lifted the reins and directed him toward a small stand of trees so he could rest up for the day.

In the trees she did her best to conceal the cart and tied Blackie back in the shadows. She settled down beside the cart and began to nurse Em while she picked out the pickles with her fingers from the jar. As the two quietly sat eating, enjoying the warm sun that was drying out their wet clothing, she felt relaxed for the very first time.

Watching Em nurse, she began to think of what life as a woman and mother might mean. She could handle the mother portion, she thought; at least she was doing a decent enough job keeping them both alive for now. But… what would it mean if she actually was able to find Gideon? He would think she was Hannah, and he would want more of her than she was really willing to give. But everyone they came across would think she was Hannah, and that Em was actually her daughter.

Glancing down, she admired the soft curls that framed her daughter’s head. She laughed, realizing that she actually thought possessive of Em, thinking of her like she was her own flesh and blood. It wouldn’t be too farfetched since both looked like they were related anyway; anyone could see a definite resemblance between them. Both females had red in their hair, with the daughter’s being slightly more blonde. Her red color seemed a perfect match, it actually fit her former self’s fiery temper much more than perhaps it had the original Hannah.

She decided right then and there that she would refer to herself as both a woman and as Hannah Shepherd… at least until she found Gideon. She wasn’t so young while she had been Ezrah that she didn’t know what was expected between a husband and wife, but she just wasn’t sure that she really wanted to find out for herself.

She felt her eyes grow heavy and allowed herself to sleep while Em continued to nurse; she only woke up long enough to switch sides with Em. Sometime during the late afternoon she felt a cool breeze upon her breast and quickly pulled her shirt together, covering up the exposed area. As she sat with Em upon her slender thighs, rocking them side to side and patting her back, she for a moment thought she had heard music.

Pausing she listened carefully, again though it was far off, she could swear it sounded like a violin. She rose up and held Em as she meandered through the trees, past Blackie and to the opposite side of the little stand. There in the distance was a wagon train; she only counted six wagons in all. They were arranged in a circle and several people were milling about on the inside. She looked back at Blackie and then quickly retraced her steps back to the cart.

Her mind had already been made up before she reached the big horse - she would drive the cart down to the train for safety’s sake. A helpless female and a tiny baby needed the company of numbers that a wagon train could provide, even a small one. She carefully wrapped Em and placed her into the back of the cart, went back up and untied Blackie from the tree.

Within an hour she had him harnessed and was slowly riding down into the area where she saw the small wagon train. As she approached, a rider came out to meet her. The older man appeared to be the wagon master; he held an air of authority about him.

“You lost, sonny?” He said as they met. “I saw you driving in from the north…”

He reined in his horse and studied her face, “Why, you ain’t no boy! What in the Sam Hill you doing out here all alone?”

“I was part of a wagon train that was attacked by Indians back a piece, we was heading toward Oregon.” She squinted at him as the sun was directly in her eyes. Moving her head slightly allowed his shoulder to block the sunlight for her.

“Well I guess you can gather your cart and come on in with us… although I had better ask if you have any druthers about heading to California instead.” He pushed his hat back and admired the young female’s courage on going it alone instead of just giving up and turning back.

“I’ll stay the night with you and then head out in the morning then, I’m going on to Oregon.” She looked across the distance to the wagons and added, “My husband and I became separated during the attack.” She was thinking that if they knew she was married, there may be less trouble for her in their camp.

He reached his big hand out, “Name’s Harley…though my friends call me Cap…and you are?”

“Hannah Shepherd.” She held out her diminutive hand, in his it looked like a child’s.

“You follow me, I’ll put you beside my wife and I’s wagon.” With that, he began riding; Hannah was forced to keep up with him. He only slowed down as they neared the wagons. “Hey Del!” He shouted, and when the man looked up he said, “Move the wagon tongue so we can get this little gal’s cart through.” The man nodded and quickly moved the tongue and she drove Blackie on through.

As they came to a stop several people walked up and were admiring the horse, “I ain’t seen a horse like that since I left old Kentuk.” One man said. “Is he for sale?”

“No, he’s not for sale. He belonged to my father.” Hannah replied as she reached into the box and retrieved Em.

“What the hell would you do with a horse like that, Elmer; he can’t pull nothing bigger than this here cart!” another said laughing.

“All right, all right…leave the girl alone.” A small sassy older woman scolded as she pushed her way through the crowd that had gathered. As they were leaving, she gave Hannah a long look. “What part of the country do you call home?”

“Indiana,” Hannah replied, lifting Em to her shoulder.

“I see…” She said subjectively, “Do all the women from Indiana dress like fellas?”

“No not all…oh.” She followed the woman’s eyes to her own attire, “I lost mine when the Indians attacked our wagon.” It was partially true, so she thought she was safe with her white lie.

“What’cha got there?” She asked, finally noticing little Em in her arms. “You had a young’en out here on the trail?”

“This is my daughter Emma, Em for short,” Hannah replied with a nod of her head then turned her so the woman could see her tiny face and little strawberry ringlets that framed it. For a fraction of a second, Hannah thought she almost saw the woman smile.

“Cap says we’re taking the Overland into California in the morning. You coming with us?” She spoke as she began to direct Hannah toward her wagon.

“No, ma’am. I’m heading to Oregon where my parents had been headed.” Hanna stopped and looked back at Blackie and her cart. “I have to take care of my horse.”

“Harley’s got it, see.” She pointed, Harley was on the other side unhitching him and leading Blackie toward his wagon behind them. “So, trying to meet up with your folks in Oregon?”

Hanna looked down as her face washed with sadness; the woman noticed and gently hugged the young mother, “Lost them in the attack?” Hannah could only nod her response. “You got a baby with you, where’s the mister?”

Hannah’s mind worked quickly, she gave the woman a half truth, “When the Indians attacked, we were separated…I don’t even know if he and our son got out alive!”

“What are their names?” She asked, showing respectful sympathy.

Hannah smiled, she really didn’t know why, but she did as she replied. “Gideon, he’s my husband and Cade is our son.”

“Well, I’m sure if your mister is as resourceful as you, he’ll have made it through.” She patted Hannah’s slender back and pointed toward her own wagon. “We’re going to sup soon, you’ll be our guest and I won’t take no for an answer.”

“Thank you for that, it’s been awhile since we’ve had much to eat. I’ve been living on potatoes, onions, and bread and butter pickles.” Hanna said with a laugh as they arrived at the wagon.

“I can’t tell you when the last time I had any bread and butter pickles, probably been nigh on to six or seven year!” The older woman laughed and wagged her finger in front of Em as she spoke. Straightening up, she held out her hand, “I’m Luttie.”

“Hi Luttie, I’m Hannah.” She replied as she shook her hand. “I would be happy to share a jar with you. It would please me greatly since you invited me to eat with you, I’d feel like I was contributing,” she excitedly added.

As the two women were talking, Cap walked past with Blackie, and tied him to the wagon wheel where the grass was thick and lush. “Hannah, did you know that you got a cracked wheel on your cart?”

She glanced up; surprised that she recognized her ‘new’ name immediately. “I must have cracked it last night during the rainstorm. We got caught in a dry creek bed when it began raining; it was all we could do to get ourselves out of there!” She then looked toward her father’s big black thoroughbred, “We would have never made it if it weren’t for Blackie.”

“Well, no matter. We have us a top-notch wheelwright on the trail with us that can fix it for you in no time; I can go and speak to him right now.” He hesitated before he started off, “He’s going to ask for money or trade…you got anything you can part with?”

Forgetting the money that had been her parents, she replied. “I have no money; all I have is the clothes I’m wearing and Em.” She then recalled the box still in the cart, “Oh wait…in the cart there’s a box, in the box is a pouch with good tobacco and a bottle of whiskey. Would your wheelwright take that as trade?”

He laughed, “We can just start with the tobacco…I don’t want him to be drinking while he’s in this wagon train.”

As Cap started to walk away she called out to him, “Cap sir, can you bring the box back when you return? I want to share some bread and butter pickles with you for supper.”

He paused and turned, his smile was beaming. “Lady, for that I’d do just about anything!”

Hannah placed Em on a pile of blankets to sleep; while she slept, she began helping Luttie make their supper. “You know, I got an old dress that was my Eliza’s…I bet it would fit you perfectly. She was a ‘well formed’ woman like you on top.” Hanna never looked up though she could feel her face growing warm and she acted like she didn’t hear, and “I think I’ll go find that dress. You can change while I’m finishing up supper.”

Hannah looked up in horror - it was bad enough to be suddenly transformed into a woman…she definitely didn’t want to dress the part of one! “I’m okay; you really don’t need to…”

“Oh poppy-cock, a woman needs to look like a woman. Stop hiding your figure under all those boy duds and show off what the good Lord gave ya!” She laughed and climbed into her wagon. “I got some other items in here that were hers. Might as well give the rest of them to you.”
Hannah sadly looked down at Ezrah’s old clothes. “Oh heaven help me…” she sighed, “Because I’m going to need it!”