Linnea had told him the name of her tin container—a vasculum. And she’d opened it up to demonstrate how it allowed her to carry around plants without crushing them. She’d also given him an inventory of what was inside the pouch, showing him all the items she used in her botany research, including clippers, small shovels, and notebooks, among other items.
Over the past couple of weeks since the stampede, his gruff rebuke hadn’t scared her away because she was as friendly as if nothing had happened. She made a point of walking with him every day, chattering on about the plants she was collecting, about the importance of the book her grandfather was compiling, and about the process they went through to dry, draw, and diagram each item.
At first, he hadn’t been especially eager for her company, but lately he’d found himself anticipating the time with her and viewing the world around him through her eyes, noticing more details, seeing the beauty, and appreciating the littlest things in nature in a way he never had before. She was easy to talk to, sharing stories of her family back in New York, especially about her mother’s and sister’s suffragist beliefs. The more he learned about her family, the more he began to understand her.
One thing he’d come to realize was that she wasn’t singling him out but was instead just plain friendly. She visited with lots of other travelers, including Dr. Greely. And for a reason Flynn didn’t want to analyze, the image of the two of them together was starting to burn like a brand in his hide.
He straightened from the wagon wheel he was repairing and tried to drag his attention from the couple. But his sights stayed planted right on her as Dr. Greely placed a hand upon the small of her back.
“Flynn!” Dylan’s call came louder. “The heifer’s ready.”
The news must have spanned the distance of their camp and reached Linnea because she spun around and sought out Dylan, her body suddenly rigid. She said something to Dr. Greely, then handed him her supplies. As he took the items, his features creased with disappointment, but Linnea had already picked up her skirts and started to run toward them, revealing her unladylike bloomers underneath.
“Is it time?” She let her bonnet blow off her head, and the afternoon sunshine poured over her hair, turning it a flaming red.
“Yep! She separated out from the herd.” Dylan grinned at Linnea, watching her approach with undisguised adoration. “And now she’s on the ground.”
Flynn reached for the rag draped across the wheel and started to wipe his hands of the dust and grease that coated them. Although cow birthing didn’t bother him the same way a human birthing did, he still didn’t like them. Not anymore. Especially not today, not this one, not after what he had to do once the calf was born.
His gut twisted just thinking about it. But he had to go through with it, or he’d risk the entire herd. Already they’d resorted to a near crawl because the heifer’s swelling abdomen had slowed her down. In the four weeks since they’d left Council Grove, they only managed to make it to Pawnee Fork at Fort Larned.
He couldn’t completely blame the pregnant heifer for the delay. While they’d had smooth traveling and decent weather since Cottonwood Creek, a thunderstorm at Plum Buttes had caused the herd to stampede again, and they’d wasted the next day rounding up stray cattle. At least Linnea hadn’t been in the way that time. In fact, she’d happily spent the delay clipping samples and drawing illustrations from the plum bushes after which the site was named.
They’d had another delay when they reached Walnut Creek Crossing and faced the river, which had flooded from the thunderstorm. They had to camp with other wagon trains along the bank, waiting for the water level to subside. By the third day, Flynn had been as anxious as the rest when they’d finally pushed across. Even then, a wagon in another group had capsized, and a woman with her two children had drowned. It’d only served to remind him of how close Linnea had come to meeting the same fate back in the Neosho River.
When they’d reached Fort Larned a few days after Walnut Creek, the cracked rim in one of the wheels had forced them to hold over. Thankfully, the military outpost had a blacksmith who’d been able to solder the piece. And though Flynn wasn’t a wheelwright, he had enough know-how to make adjustments and salvage the wheel.
But it had cost them another day of travel. Always at the back of his mind was the pressure to get the cattle to Wyatt on time and in good condition. Wyatt had let him down too many times to count, and Flynn had to prove he was different from his brother—more reliable and responsible.
Dr. Howell and his party of scientists hadn’t complained once of the slow pace or the delays. In fact, like Linnea, they seemed to relish the extra time to do more research.
“Come on and hurry.” Dylan started in the direction of the herd grazing to the north of the Santa Fe Trail. It was already mid-June, and they were having to seek out grassland whenever they stopped because of the overgrazing from other livestock traveling the trail ahead of them. He’d heard that farther along, water could become as scarce as grass, and he only prayed that didn’t happen.
Flynn took his time rubbing the rag at the grease on his hands, telling himself he wasn’t waiting for Linnea. But when she reached the wagon, he fell into step next to her. “I take it Dr. Greely didn’t want to watch a birthing?”
“Oh.” Her eager stride faltered. “I didn’t think to ask him. Perhaps I should?”
“Reckon he can make up his own mind.”
“You’re right.” She picked up her pace. “And truthfully, I’d like a break from him. But please don’t tell him I said so.”
Flynn had half a notion to spin around and shout over to Dr. Greely to stop pestering Linnea every spare minute of every livelong day. Although Flynn was in charge of her safety—and had done his best to keep her from any more dangerous incidents—he had no right to interfere with Dr. Greely’s efforts to win Linnea’s affection.
In fact, he oughta be encouraging the union. Then, when they arrived at the Front Range and split ways, Dr. Greely could marry Linnea and take over her supervision. The almighty truth was that the woman needed someone to watch over her.
Ever since she’d nearly been trampled by the herd, he never felt completely secure unless she was in his line of vision and close enough for him to run to her rescue. Even at night, whether he was taking his turn doing guard duty or catching a few winks under the wagon, he kept half an eye and ear cocked on the back of her wagon. She was every bit as scattered as Dr. Howell had said, and then some.
He was earning his two hundred dollars from Dr. Howell, that was for sure.
“I imagine you’re quite the expert on birthing cows,” she said.
“Yep. Done my fair share.”
“From all the cows you raised on your farm?” Linnea started an easy conversation with him as always, keeping her tone friendly, even sisterly, like she did with Dylan. She’d done her best, just as she’d said, to be a friend and nothing more.
And he’d done his best to keep his thoughts from wandering where they shouldn’t. He wasn’t gonna lie. The effort wasn’t easy. Especially after watching her so much, he couldn’t keep from liking what he saw.
She smiled and waved at people from several other wagons as they passed by. He didn’t know how she did it, but she was always making friends wherever she went and with whomever she met.