The Surrogate Wife. Barbara Leigh

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       Chapter Two

      They rose with the sun. After breaking their fast, Meagan gathered up her dress and climbed up onto the wagon seat where Josh waited. Without a word they started off down the rutted road toward their destination. But the day was all but spent when Josh finally drew Meagan from her reverie. “There it is,” he said.

      Meagan’s eyes swept the valley below.

      The land was rich and fertile. The green of the grass and trees was vibrant, and the earth black and rich.

      Josh skillfully guided the horses along the narrow road, opened the gates and stopped the wagon between the house and the barn.

      Meagan glanced around. The outbuildings consisted of a barn, chicken house, several covered stalls for animals, a smokehouse and outhouse. The double cabin was really two buildings connected by a dogtrot.

      She wondered if Josh would actually make her stay in the barn as had been suggested before they left town. She glanced at him surreptitiously but he paid her little mind as he climbed from the seat of the wagon and started toward the house, every line of his body alert for whatever he might encounter.

      He pulled the nails from the boards that held the doors and windows shut. Putting the nails in his pouch, he stacked the boards beneath the steps and turned to Meagan.

      “Get yourself down from there,” he ordered. “Seems safe enough.”

      “Safe from what?” Meagan asked as she clambered from the wagon and grabbed her belongings.

      “Indians! What else?”

      “Oh,” she scoffed. “Indians. I’ve never had any trouble with them.”

      “Then you’ve never met Old Howling Dog.” Josh pushed the door open and went inside.

      Meagan hesitated on the porch before following.

      Josh didn’t bother to look at her as he threw open the shutters on the windows, allowing the fresh breeze to stir the dust in the room. “Indians aren’t going to ask who you are or whether you like them. They aren’t real happy that we’re living on their land. Old Howling Dog wants us gone, and I’m expecting him to make a move to try to see it happens real soon now.”

      Meagan swallowed, her false bravado lost in the reality of his words. “I’ll keep my eyes open,” she managed, realizing for the first time the vast difference between what her life had been and what it would be now.

      Without another word she took off her bonnet and surveyed her surroundings. A musty, cloying odor permeated the air and Meagan decided that perhaps sleeping in the barn wouldn’t be so bad after all.

      There was a thin film of dust on the floor mingled with a sprinkling of mouse droppings. The room boasted a fireplace, bookshelves, wooden chest, two armchairs, a table and a desk. Near the window stood a little organ, and it was all Meagan could do to keep from crying out in joy over the discovery.

      Before she could speak, Josh opened a small door on the far wall opposite the fireplace. Meagan followed more slowly. It seemed odd that a home could show so little sign of being lived in, for her trial had taken very little time, considering everything, and Josh couldn’t have been away long enough to account for this stuffiness.

      She followed him, wondering how to ask about the room when she found herself on a little dogtrot. A second door opened onto the rear cabin, which Meagan had thought to be a shed since Josh had piled logs for the fire down the side.

      She crowed with delight when she popped her head into the smaller room. This one was steeped with warmth from the sun and the spicy smell of life.

      There was a fireplace with a cook oven built into the brick. Pots and pans, along with metal utensils and wooden basins, hung from the wall and were stacked neatly on the shelves.

      A heavy wooden sink beckoned invitingly as Josh picked up a bucket and headed toward the stream some distance away.

      The table was polished to a warm hue. The chairs were solid. A heavy blanket hung along one wall and when Meagan peeked behind it she saw two beds. In the far corner on the other side of the room there was a straw mattress covered with a knit shawl.

      A chill ran through her body. It was almost as though Josh Daniels had been expecting to bring her back. But of course, that was ridiculous. He could not have known the judge would give such an order.

      “Start a fire and get some water boiling. There’s cornmeal in the keg over by the dry sink.” He looked at her and took a deep breath. “You know how to make mush, don’t you?”

      Meagan felt the color rise in her cheeks. “Yes, sir, I do.” She set her jaw and took the kettle from the hook.

      “Fine, then make it.”