Trails of Amethyst Mountain

By Linda Clifton

Monty and Mary Charlotte Hendrickson face new challenges when Monty’s niece comes to live with them. Caroline Mae is determined to show her parents, Thomas and Elise Hendrickson, and her aunt and uncle that they, nor anyone else, will have control over her. Living in the middle of nowhere, Arizona Territory is not her choice.

The 1890s Arizona Territory is not a safe time for a young girl to travel alone, especially when she is pursued by evil men who are guilty of murder, train robberies, making and selling illegal moonshine, and lawlessness of all sorts.

How will this strongminded, rebellious young woman survive the sinister attempts these evil ones plot to end her short life? Will she allow an angel to guide her into the life God has planned for her?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Linda Clifton
• Release date: Feb 23, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370320974

Linda Clifton

Linda Clifton grew up on her family's ranch that hugs the high desert terrain of southeastern Arizona, where wildlife and cattle roam and graze together. After graduating from high school and attending college for two years, Linda returned to her ranch home. It was here that she and her husband Phil lived, worked, and raised their two children. When her children left home to attend college, Linda knew it was time to finish her degree. She earned both Bachelor of Science and Master of Education degrees from Northern Arizona University. Prior to her writing career, Linda spent a number of years teaching in both public and private schools. Teaching children augmented her enthusiasm for writing. Linda belongs to two writers’ groups and attends various writing conferences, seminars, and workshops to further her writing career. Linda and her husband currently reside about halfway between their former ranch property in the Bonita area and the small town of Willcox, Arizona.

Book preview

The Smashwords Edition

Trails

of

Amethyst Mountain

Linda Clifton

Copyright © 2017 Linda Clifton

All rights reserved.

Smashwords License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment. It may not be resold or given away. If you would like to share this ebook, please purchase an additional copy for each person with whom you want to share it. If you're reading this ebook and did not purchase it, or if it was not purchased for your use only, please return to Smashwords and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

The characters and events in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to persons, whether living or dead, is strictly coincidental.

* * * * *

Cover photo courtesy of Shutterstock

Formatted by Debora Lewis arenapublishing.org

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-one

Chapter Twenty-two

Chapter Twenty-three

Chapter Twenty-four

Chapter Twenty-five

Chapter Twenty-six

About the Author

INTRODUCTION

THE FOGHORN SOUNDED and the boat began picking up speed. Icy sprays of water stung Caroline’s face as she shivered in the evening shadows, hunkered behind the barrels on deck of the River Queen. Her light shawl could not keep out the damp winter night winds that blew across the great Mississippi River.

I wanted to get away from that awful boarding school, but at least I had a warm bed and a bowl of soup. How can I go back now? Mama and Papa won’t ever know what really happened. No, I’ve made the break, and I won’t go back. I’ll show all of them that I can make it on my own.

Clomping boot heels reverberated along the deck stopping beside the barrel that hid her. Cigar smoke swirled in the wind. She tried unsuccessfully to stifle the unavoidable sneeze.

Well, well. What do we have here? I think I’ve found myself a little stowaway.

The man grabbed her arm and roughly pulled her out onto the foggy deck. Come out from behind those barrels. What’s your name, Little Lady?

She only stared at him.

I asked your name, Girl. Tell me before I knock it out of you.

Caroline.

Do you have a last name, Caroline?

Jerking her arm free from the man’s gloved hand she stepped back and squared her shoulders. Hendrickson. I’m Caroline Mae Hendrickson, if it’s any of your business.

Because you’re on my boat, makes it my business. Now what are you doing here, Miss Hendrickson?

When she did not answer, the man put his hands on her shoulders and shook her. I asked you a question. You’d better answer before I decide to beat it out of you.

I happen to be on my way to New Orleans.

There are better ways of getting there. But since you’ve chosen to steal a ride, maybe you’ll need to work in order to pay your fare.

I’ll be glad to pay you the fare just as soon as I get to New Orleans. I have no money right now.

And I suppose you’ll have money there? How stupid do I look? No, you’ll pay by working for me. Do you understand?

"I only work for whom I choose. Do you understand?"

A smirk curled the corners of his mouth. "A spirited little thing now aren’t you. I admire a spunky lady, as all of my ladies are."

I’m freezing out here. I want to go inside just long enough to warm up.

Of course, Caroline. Are you hungry? I’ll see to it that you get some supper and a place to sleep. Then we’ll talk about your job in the morning.

CHAPTER ONE

THE WHISPERING CHATTER sent chills over Mary Charlotte. Knowing the Indians would be all around her house, she stepped away from the kitchen window and moved as quietly as possible toward the living room where nine-month-old Stuart Ray sat on the floor playing with his toys. A gentle breeze swept through the open front door. Shadows moved across the room as she rushed to scoop her baby into her arms. She was too late. A young Indian woman grabbed the baby and held him tightly against her chest. A stern-looking Indian man stood by the door.

Mary Charlotte moved cautiously toward them. As she held out her hands to take the baby, the woman frowned and turned away.

The tall buckskin-clad man moved between the women and faced Mary Charlotte. He spoke with determination. Want baby. Trade many horses for baby.

Without blinking, Mary Charlotte held his gaze. No! The baby is mine!

Stuart began fussing and wiggling. Attempting to free himself from the woman’s grasp, he extended his chubby little hands toward his mother.

Maintaining eye contact with the man, Mary Charlotte slowly backed toward the fireplace. She felt the poker. Placing her fingers securely around the handle, she hid it behind her skirt. Suddenly leaping forward, she whirled and elbowed the man in the gut with every ounce of strength she had and jammed the poker into the woman’s ribs. Dropping the poker, she grabbed the baby, dashed to the bedroom, slammed the door behind her, and raced to the open window. She slid through without even a backward glance and sprinted to the creek. Staying in the shadows of the mesquites and scrub oaks, she put as much distance between herself and the Indians as possible.

Dear Lord, help us.

She came to the spot where the creek crossed the road. Knowing Monty would be coming home from Fort Grant in the wagon, she followed the road being careful to remain hidden in the brush along the edge.

The rumbling wagon wheels grew louder. She stepped from the shadows into the middle of the road. Hanging on to Stuart with one arm, she waved frantically with her free hand.

Monty hardly waited for the wagon to halt before he jumped down and took his wife and baby in his arms. What in the world…?

Mary Charlotte sobbed as Monty held her. Indians wanted Stuart.

What?

They were already in the h-house by the time the chatter started.

When her crying subsided, he loosened his arms. Honey, let me have the baby and you take a drink of water from my canteen. Let’s rest in the shade by the creek so you can tell me about it.

Handing the baby to her husband, Mary Charlotte took the canteen and gulped down the tepid liquid. Her ragged breathing calmed, and she walked to the creek bank.

Monty followed, carrying the baby, who was now laughing and slapping his pudgy hands on his father’s face.

You think this is a big game, don’t you, Buddy. Hugging his son close, Monty sat next to his wife. Now can you tell me what happened?

Monty held the baby in one arm and put the other around Mary Charlotte’s trembling shoulders while she told the story to him.

I’ll tell Major Jorgensen about this. Those Indian scouts and their women are supposed to go straight through the pass to the reservation. He has instructed them to stay on the trail and not to go inside our fence.

How do you know they were Indian scouts? They may have belonged to one of those bands of renegades from San Carlos Reservation.

No, if that was the case, they would have either taken both you and the baby, or killed you and burned the house. You wouldn’t have gotten away. Jorgensen just gave a group of scouts ten days leave to go back to the reservation. They didn’t intend to harm you because they wanted to make a trade.

Monty helped Mary Charlotte up and they went to the wagon. Once she sat on the seat, he handed the baby to her and then climbed up beside her. He pulled his rifle from behind the seat and propped it between them. Mary Charlotte knew by the set of Monty’s jaw, that he meant to send the Indians on their way, if they were still around.

Monty pulled the horses to a stop in front of the house. Take the reins, Honey. You and the baby wait in the wagon while I check the place. Monty hopped down and walked to the house holding the rifle at his side.

Mary Charlotte stared at the door until he returned.

They’re gone, now. After I get ya’ll inside, I’ll check the barn and corrals.

Handing the baby to his father, Mary Charlotte scrambled from the wagon and willed her wobbly legs to carry her into the house.

Once inside, Monty handed the baby back to his mother and picked up the rifle. They’ve probably gone on, but lock the doors just in case.

Please don’t be gone very long. I don’t want to be here alone.

I’ll be back in a few minutes.

She sat in the rocking chair and clung tightly to Stuart, who clearly did not want his mother holding him. Wiggling and fussing he squirmed to get to the floor where he could crawl around. However, his mother held him tightly, put her face on top of his soft curls, and wept. Thank you, Lord, for protecting us today.

Monty stepped up on the front porch. Mary Charlotte, you can open the door.

Finally able to put the baby down, she went over and unlocked it.

They’re gone, but they took a bridle and pair of spurs from the tack room. Buster won’t be any too happy when he comes in. I didn’t find where they did any damage.

I don’t want to turn the baby loose right now, so will you stay here and watch him while I fix us something to eat. I’m sure you’re both hungry.

Mary Charlotte opened the door to the larder to get foodstuff for their meal. Those no good scoundrels took a side of bacon!

Monty chuckled as he came to her side. You’re complaining about a little bacon? They were probably hungry, too. Let’s not begrudge giving them a little meat. We still have our baby. He grinned at her. And, by the way Mrs. Hendrickson, I haven’t had a chance to tell you how proud I am of you. The way you got Stuart away from that woman showed some quick thinking. You probably shocked their moccasins off.

Mary Charlotte giggled. You know, come to think of it, I did double that man up when I elbowed him in the gut. I think I surprised him. And that woman will probably have a bruise the size of Texas on her ribcage, but they didn’t take our baby.

Monty picked up Stuart from the floor and then sat down. They’ll probably not want to tangle with you again, but I’ll tell the Major bout it anyway.

The baby started his favorite game of pulling his father’s heavy mustache. The more Monty yelled, the harder Stuart laughed and pulled.

Is there any coffee left in the pot?

Mary Charlotte smiled at her husband and son, and then turned toward the kitchen. She gingerly touched the coffee pot and found it still warm. There’s just about enough for a cup, but the fire’s all but died out and the coffee’s not very hot.

That’s all right. I’ll drink it anyway.

She poured the lukewarm liquid into a cup and set it on the table.

Monty picked up a wooden toy that Claude Bannon, his old friend, had carved for Stuart. The baby seemed content with the toy, so Monty put him on the rug to play. Then he pulled a chair from the table, sat down, and began drinking his coffee.

Mary Charlotte stoked up the coals in the stove, added some wood, and sat down at the table while she waited for it to get hot. She thought about Mos’, Bitsy, and Jonah, her former servants from Georgia, who had come to the ranch to live. They were more akin to family than they were servants. They had gone last month to help with laundry for the buffalo soldiers at Fort Grant.

How were Mos’ and Bitsy? How does Jonah like being a buffalo soldier? He was so excited when they left for the fort.

Mos’ and Bitsy are almost ready to come home, but it’s hard for them to leave Jonah. I guess you’re never ready for your children to grow up and get on their own.

I’m sure it’s not easy. When do they want to come home? I miss Bitsy.

I’ll go back and get them tomorrow.

Stuart and I are going with you. I’m not prepared to be here alone again.

That’ll be fine. The outing will do you good anyway.

You’ll tell Major Jorgensen about the Indians, won’t you?

Yes, dear. I’m not very happy about them coming in here the way they did.

Monty picked up his plate and took it to the dishpan. That was a good dinner, Honey. I have some things to check on down in the barn, but I’ll be around here this afternoon. Don’t worry about the Indians coming back. They’re well on their way to San Carlos, I’m sure.

I won’t worry. Stuart needs a nap, and I have some mending to do. I’ll be ever so glad when Bitsy gets home.

Monty put his hat on and left through the back door.

Mary Charlotte picked up the mending basket. Will you bring some meat from the spring house for supper? I expect Buster will be hungry when he gets in. He thought he’d be back early, so he didn’t take a lunch with him.

Which do you want, pork or venison?

Either will be fine, but I prefer pork.

The baby was asleep almost as soon as his mother put him to bed. She settled herself in the rocking chair with a basket of socks to darn. Looking down at the mending made her drowsy. The stress of the day had taken its toll. She dozed off. Monty’s heavy step at the back door awakened her. Jumping up from the chair, she sent the basket of socks flying across the rug.

Monty came into the room. I didn’t mean to scare you, dear.

I must have fallen asleep while I was attempting to darn these socks. Is it time for supper already?

Not yet, but I did bring some venison. We didn’t have much pork left. Is Stuart still asleep?

Stuart! With a pounding heart, she raced to the bedroom. Finding the baby asleep, she tried to calm the trembling in her hands. She turned to face Monty. I don’t know if I’ll ever get past the horrible fear of the Indians.

This has been a stressful day. Yes, you will because that’s part of living where we live. You cannot spend all of your days scared of every shadow. The Indians have been peaceful most of the last few years.

You’re right. I’m determined to get passed it.

I know you will. Buster’s riding down the mountainside now, so I’ll go out to the corral to talk with him. We’ll be in for supper after while.

Buster is such a good helper for Monty. The Lord smiled on us when He sent that old cowboy. Mary Charlotte picked up the socks and her mending basket. She sat back down to finish darning a sock before starting supper.

Lord, I know that You love those Indians just the same as You love me. Give me peace and a right attitude toward them.

The clock on the mantle struck four times. Putting the basket aside, she went to the stove and stoked up the fire.

Stuart began crying and saying one of the two words he knew. Mama. Mama.

She went to the bedroom. Well, you had quite a nap little man. I’ll bet you’re soaked.

The baby grinned when his mother started talking to him. He squealed, kicked, and tried to flop over to his tummy.

Now, how do expect me to change that wet diaper when you won’t be still? Mary Charlotte kissed his neck and tickled his tummy. Now lay still and let me change you.

The baby sat on the floor and played with his wooden toy while the venison sizzled in the iron skillet.

Monty stomped the dust from his boots before entering the kitchen. It smells good in here. Supper must be about ready.

Buster White, the ranch hand, also stomped the dirt from his boots.

Mary Charlotte pulled a pan of biscuits from the oven. I’ll have everything on the table by the time y’all get washed up.

They sat around the table, bowed their heads, and Monty gave thanks for their food.

Monty began cutting his venison steak into bite-sized portions. With all the excitement today, I forgot to tell you about the letter.

That’s right. You went to Fort Grant to get the mail. Did I get a note from Annie? We need to get into town for a visit.

No, but we got a letter from my brother, Thomas.

That’s nice. I certainly hope everything is well back home in Georgia.

Well, that’s just it, dear. Not everything is well. You can read the letter after supper.

Mary Charlotte’s face paled. Bad news?

You can read the letter.

CHAPTER TWO

MONTY PULLED THE letter from his shirt pocket. You need to sit down and read this.

With trembling fingers, she pulled the page from the envelope. She read the scrawled words:

Dear Monty and Mary Charlotte,

I hope all is well with you. We are healthy but having problems with our daughter, Caroline Mae. She does not want to stay in Miss Stapleton’s Finishing School and has run away twice. I had to hire an investigator to locate her both times. She is an adventuresome girl. Her mother and I have decided that it would be good for her to go out west and live with you on the ranch. She will arrive by train on October twenty-fifth. I am sorry for the short notice, but we are at our wits’ end. Thank you for helping us out.

Your brother,

Thomas

MARY CHARLOTTE LOOKED up from the paper. I can’t believe he would just send her to us without our approval. He has his nerve!

I’m not exactly thrilled about it either, but October the twenty-fifth is next week. She’s already on her way. We have no choice. We have to let her live here.

Where will she sleep? We don’t have an extra room.

I’ve been thinking about that. Since Jonah is gone, she can sleep over in Mos’ and Bitsy’s house in the room that was Claude’s and then Jonah’s. That should work at least until we can get another room built on here. We’ve been planning to build on another bedroom for Stuart anyway. We could build two rooms instead of one.

Maybe she’ll hate it here and not stay long. I’m not ready to mother a teenager. How old is she, anyway?

The nearest I can figure, she’s about sixteen or seventeen.

Oh great. I’m only nineteen.

Maybe you’re the friend she needs. She has a mother that she obviously resents. Maybe she just needs a friend to guide her.

When you put it that way, I suppose I can make an effort. I surely hope she likes me.

We’ll have to cross that bridge when we get to it.

I suppose that’s true. I’m so glad Mos’ and Bitsy are coming home tomorrow. I can use some of Bitsy’s wisdom.

Morning arrived all too soon for Mary Charlotte. The autumn chill in the air drove her back under the coverlet, but only for a minute. I have to get up or Monty might leave without me. No way do I want to go through another day here alone with the baby.

Monty pulled the wagon to a stop at the front gate. He set the brake and stepped down from the seat.

The early morning breeze carried Monty’s voice. Are you ready, dear? We need to get going so we won’t be too late getting home this evening.

I’ll be ready in a minute. I need to finish putting the diapers in a bag for Stuart.

Do you need help with anything?

No, thank you. I’m about ready.

Soon she came out and Monty helped her and the baby onto the wagon seat. He climbed up beside them and put his rifle under the seat.

The bouncing and swaying of the wagon soon rocked Stuart to sleep. Mary Charlotte kissed the sleeping baby’s forehead. Before Stuart was born, I couldn’t imagine loving a baby as much as I do him.

Neither could I, but it just came naturally.

I don’t understand how Thomas and Elise could ship Caroline off by herself all the way to Arizona Territory. I don’t think I could do that.

We don’t know all of the circumstances, honey. At least they know we’ll take care of her. When she ran away from the finishing school, she had no one caring for her. Can you imagine what might have happened to her if they hadn’t found her?

What if she runs away from us?

I hope we can keep that from happening. I also hope Mos’ and Bitsy won’t mind if she shares their home for a while.

They won’t mind. In fact, it might keep them from missing Jonah.

I hadn’t thought of that.

Monty stopped the wagon at the Fort Grant entrance. The guard opened the gate. Good morning, sir. Are you here to see someone?

We’re here to see Major Jorgensen.

Stepping aside, the soldier opened the gate wide enough for the wagon to pass through.

Stuart’s auburn curls blew in the autumn breeze. He opened his eyes and started fussing.

Mary Charlotte sat him up. Were you not ready to wake up? I’m sorry. When she smiled, Stuart stopped his fussing and grinned at his mother.

Monty stopped the team in front of Major Jorgensen’ office. The Major stepped outside. Good morning, Mr. Hendrickson. It’s a beautiful day to bring your wife and baby to the fort. Then he removed his hat. It’s nice seeing you again, Mrs. Hendrickson.

Thank you Major.

Monty stepped down from the wagon and shook hands with Major Jorgensen. When I came for the mail yesterday, I talked to Mos’ and Bitsy. They wanted to stay one more night, so we’ve come back to take them home today.

Please, come into my office where you’ll be more comfortable. I’ll send a soldier to fetch them.

Monty helped his wife and baby from the wagon. Thank you, Major. There’s a little matter my wife and I would like to discuss with you while we wait.

Once inside, Major Jorgensen pulled out chairs for his guests. Please, sit down.

A young soldier stood to one side of the desk. Private Manley, bring some cool water for Mr. and Mrs. Hendrickson, please. Then go and tell Mos’ and Bitsy Stuart that the Hendricksons are here. Turning to Monty and Mary Charlotte, he continued. We would be glad for you to take the noon meal with us.

Mary Charlotte didn’t wait for Monty to answer. Thank you, but we brought a lunch along. It’s such a lovely day for a picnic.

Major Jorgensen sat behind his desk. That it is. Now, what is it you wanted to talk to me about?

Monty cleared his throat. It’s about the Apache scouts who were returning to the reservation yesterday.

Yes, they left early. What about them?

They came to our place before I got home, walked into our house, and wanted our baby.

What? I have instructed them never to stop at any houses. They are quite peaceable, but many folks are afraid of them.

I met my wife running down the road carrying our baby. Then he turned to Mary Charlotte. Honey, tell Major Jorgensen what happened.

Mary Charlotte tightened her arms around her son and related the frightening ordeal.

I’m terribly sorry about this. I will certainly look into the matter, and make sure that there won’t be another such occurrence.

Thank you, Major. My wife and I appreciate it.

Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Hendrickson, for reporting the unpleasant incident. The Indian couple will be reprimanded, along with the others who accompanied them.

Someone knocked on the door, and Major Jorgensen stood. Private Manley?

Yes, sir.

Come on in.

Sir, Mr. and Mrs. Stuart are waiting for Mr. and Mrs. Hendrickson.

Thank you, Private. That’ll be all.

Yes, sir. Private Manley saluted his superior officer and quickly exited the room.

Monty stood and extended his hand to the Major. Well, Major Jorgensen, we have taken enough of your time. Thank you for everything.

I’m glad to be of service to the neighbors. Then he looked at Mary Charlotte. It was my pleasure to see you again, Mrs. Hendrickson. I cannot get over how fast your little son is growing. He certainly looks like his father.

Mary Charlotte smiled. Yes, he does.

Monty grinned. Thank you, Major.

Major Jorgensen opened the door for his guests.

Mary Charlotte looked at the wagon. Mos’ and Bitsy sat in the back, both looking like they had just buried their son. Bitsy and Mos’! It seems like forever since I’ve seen you. It’ll be so nice having you home again.

Bitsy nodded. Yes’um, Missy. But I’s sure gonna miss my Jonah.

I know you will, Bitsy. But we’ll be so busy this fall, you aren’t going to have time to think about missing him.

Mos’ turned to Mary Charlotte. How’s my garden doin’? I reckon we’s got squash, beans, and tomatoes.

It’s wonderful, Mos’. Bitsy and I have to get started canning. I’m afraid some of it has ruined. But we still have enough to get us through the winter, I’m sure. Then she sat Stuart on Bitsy’s lap.

A broad grin spread across Bitsy’s face. Oh, Lawd, look at how big you’s gettin’. Yes suh, ol’ Bitsy’s mighty happy to hold y’all again.

Monty slipped his hand under his wife’s elbow. We need to get going. Mos’ and Bitsy, we have really missed y’all. Jonah’ll probably get some time off around Christmas, won’t he?"

Mos’s eyes clouded. Mebbe so. We ain’t sho’ though.

Monty clucked to the horses and flicked the reins. The wagon jerked into motion. We have some news for y’all. What would you both think of having a young girl stay in Jonah’s room for a while?

Bitsy looked surprised. What y’all talkin’ ‘bout? A young girl?

Yes, my brother’s daughter. We got a letter just yesterday telling us she would be coming for an extended visit. The letter said she would arrive in a few days. We thought that since you have a spare room, maybe she could stay with you until we have time to build a room onto our house.

The good Lawd done answered my prayer. I was wonderin’ how I could stand lookin’ in that empty room. Now, I won’t have to.

Mary Charlotte’s spirits brightened. So you won’t mind?

Lawd, no, child. It’ll be like havin’ you all over again.

We can’t be sure about that, yet. We haven’t seen her since she was quite young.

I’s still glad fo’ somebody to be in that room.

Mary Charlotte pointed to a grove of cottonwoods growing along Grant Creek. Let’s stop and have our picnic over there in the shade. We can get some cool water right out of the creek.

Monty directed the horses under the trees next to the gurgling creek. Looks like a good spot to me. I’ll build a little fire and make some coffee.

Mary Charlotte took Stuart to play in the water while the others prepared the lunch. He splashed and squealed.

Mary Charlotte started laughing. Stuart Ray, you’re drenching both of us.

When the baby’s mother began laughing, he splashed and kicked even more.

Monty laughed, too. You should have known you’d both get wet.

I did know, but we’ll dry.

You might be glad I built a fire. Or else you might want to move into the sunshine to eat your lunch.

Mary Charlotte spread a blanket on the ground just outside the shade where she and Stuart could sit and eat their food.

As soon as they finished, Stuart Ray began yawning and fussing. Bitsy held her hands out to him. He readily went to her. She held him until he went to sleep, then she put him on a pallet in the wagon bed.

After everyone finished eating, Bitsy put the leftovers back into the basket and Mos’ carried it to the wagon while Monty poured the coffee grounds onto the campfire. Everyone climbed aboard and soon jostled along the bumpy road.

The sinking sun cast long shadows as the wagon pulled into the headquarters of the C Bar B ranch. Mary Charlotte sucked in a quick breath. A wagon and team of mules stood in