Baby On The Oregon Trail. Lynna Banning

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      Sam frowned and rode off toward the Zaberskie wagon.

      When the wagons drew up along the riverbank, Lee heaved out a long sigh. “Flooding” was an understatement. Muddy brown water rushed past, swelling what had been a series of shallow rivulets and sandbars into a wide, slow-moving sea. He pulled the oxen to a halt and studied the situation until Sam reappeared.

      “The rest of the men feel it’s worth a try to ford now, before it gets any worse. What do you think?”

      “No,” Lee said. “Too risky.”

      Sam rode off again, returning within a quarter of an hour. “We’re going across. Yours will be the last wagon over.”

      It was midafternoon before all the wagons but theirs had lumbered across the swollen river, and then the rain-bedraggled wagon master returned one last time. “Hurry it up, Lee,” Sam yelled over the roaring water.

      Lee clamped his teeth together. “I’ll take the girls and Jenna over on horseback first. Then I’ll drive the wagon across.”

      Sam nodded and was gone.

      “Jenna, get the girls dressed in warm clothes. You, too. It can get cold in the middle of a river.”

      She climbed down and reached up for Ruthie. When they disappeared into the wagon, he wrapped the leather reins around the brake handle and dropped to the ground to untie Devil and throw on a harness and bridle.

      “I’ll take Tess across first,” he announced to Jenna. “Then I’ll come back for Ruthie and Mary Grace.”

      The rain-soaked girls nodded, biting their lips. Mary Grace began to whimper.

      “Hush up,” Tess snapped. “It’s just water. Besides, I’m going first.”

      “Tess, I want you to catch your dress up between your legs, like a split riding skirt,” Lee instructed. When she was ready, he lifted her onto Devil’s broad, wet back and swung up behind her. Then he walked the horse to the riverbank, now shelving off under the onslaught of rain, wrapped an arm around Tess’s middle and turned the animal into the water.

      “Hold on to his mane,” he shouted. “Dig your fingers in deep.”

      The current sucked at them, swirled up around his boots. He kicked Devil hard and they lurched forward. Tess was trembling, but she kept a death grip on Devil’s thick mane. He put his face near her ear. “Don’t let go, no matter what.”

      Her head tipped down in a nod, and the next thing he knew Devil stepped into a rampaging freshet up to his belly. Tess yelped.

      “Hold on!” he shouted.

      Water flooded up to the girl’s knees, then her thighs, but she didn’t let go. Ahead of him Lee saw the other wagons lined up on the opposite bank.

      The horse started to swim but was swept downstream a hundred yards. Sam Lincoln and another man rode along the bank, keeping pace with Devil as he struggled through the raging water.

      At last Lee felt the stallion’s hooves hit solid ground and he dug his heels into the animal’s sides. The bank was a slurry of mud, slippery as molasses. Twice the horse tried to heave its body up onto dry land, and twice he floundered.

      Tess began to gulp noisy sobs. On the third try, Devil lurched up onto the bank, and Sam and someone else, Ted Zaberskie, standing ankle-deep in mud, reached to grab Tess. She tumbled off into Sam’s arms.

      “Wait!” Sam shouted to him. “Lee, don’t go back across.”

      Lee shook his head. “Jenna and the young ones are back there, plus the wagon.” He reined back into the river without looking back.

      The return trip was easier. He mounted Ruthie tight against him, then snugged Mary Grace in front and wrapped his arms around them both. Jenna gave the two girls a wobbly smile and stood back, her arms clasped across her waist, to watch them go. Her face was white with fear, and suddenly Lee wanted to kiss her. Instead, he started back across the river.

      This time the river seemed less wild, or maybe he was just getting used to it. Mary Grace cried all the way across, but Ruthie maintained a stoic calm until they reached Sam and Zaberskie on the other side. Sam lifted Mary Grace off the horse and slogged up to where Tess stood, wringing her hands; Ruthie threw her little arms around Ted Zaberskie’s neck and wouldn’t let go.

      The downpour increased. Hell, if the river rose any higher, the wagon would never make it. He swam the stallion back across to Jenna, who stood with the rain pounding down on her head and shoulders, calling something up to him.

      “Wagon!”

      “No,” he shouted. “You next.”

      She pointed to herself, then cupped her hands and yelled back. “Go with wagon. You drive. Devil swim across.”

      That was one smart woman, he thought. She was right. If he didn’t get the wagon across now, they would be stranded on this side with no shelter and no food.

      He dismounted and slapped Devil’s rump, hard. The animal trotted down the bank and splashed into the river; with a knot in his gut, Lee watched him start to swim.

      He couldn’t afford to lose that horse. But right now he had other things to worry about. He grabbed Jenna around the waist, pushed her up onto the driver’s box and climbed up after her. While she covered them both with his rain poncho, he unwound the reins and flapped them over the oxen.

      Jenna slipped one arm around his middle, and he had to laugh. Did she think she could keep him from floating off the box? He shook the traces, and then they were rattling down the bank into the rain-swollen water.

      Almost immediately the wagon hit deep water and started to lift off the bottom. Still, Sue and Sunflower plowed inexorably forward until they were chest-high in muddy river water.

      Jenna’s arm tightened around him. It would feel great if he had time to relish the moment. But he didn’t.

      Ahead of them he watched Devil’s dark neck drifting downriver.

      “Got a whip?” he shouted.

      She shook her head.

      Well, hell. He needed something to urge the team on, a stick, a goad, anything. Should have thought to cut some willow switches. He yanked off his hat and swatted at their broad rumps, letting loose with some swearwords he hadn’t realized he knew.

      And then the current caught them broadside and swept the wagon downriver.

       Chapter Seven

      The wagon slewed sideways, and Jenna bit back a scream. A surge of terror rolled through her. The weight pulled the oxen off balance, and no matter how much Lee shouted and slapped at them with his sodden hat, the animals had to struggle to keep their footing.

      Suddenly he ripped off the poncho and slapped the thick leather reins into her hands. “Hold them tight,” he yelled.

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