Preacher's Journey Read Online Free

he was confident that his instincts would lead him in the right path. He would backtrack until he found the others, and then he would tell his story to Swift Arrow. It would be a proud moment when he told the war chief where to find the hated whites.
    Nah Ka Wan moved one foot, then the other, one foot, then the other, again and again, until it seemed that he had been walking forever. His brain was so numb with cold that it was several minutes after he had fallen before he realized that he was no longer moving forward. And then even that awareness slipped away from him. He lay there senseless....
    So senseless he was completely unaware of the snuffling and the crashing in the brush as the bear approached.
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    When Preacher got back to the wagons, he saw that Peter Galloway was on his feet again, although still looking a little dazed from the punch that had laid him out. Those bushy eyebrows drew down in an angry frown as he saw Preacher striding toward him.
    Peter’s brother Roger stood by him, with the two older men, Geoffrey and Jonathan, behind them. Roger was shorter and slighter than Peter, with sandy hair, and looked a little older. He seemed older too as he put a hand on Peter’s arm and said, “Don’t lose your temper again. This man is here to help us.”
    Peter nodded grudgingly. He said to Preacher, “Sorry I jumped you, mister. I guess I was just too worked up from those Indians attacking us.”
    Preacher didn’t think the apology sounded completely sincere, but he nodded in acceptance of it anyway. “I don’t hear no more hollerin’,” he said as he jerked his head toward the wagons. “Mind tellin’ me what’s goin’ on?”
    â€œI was just about to,” Roger reminded him. “That’s my wife Dorothy you heard earlier. She’s, ah, in the family way and is about to deliver.”
    Preacher’s eyes widened. “You mean there’s a baby bein’ birthed in there?” Would wonders never cease?
    â€œYes. To put it a bit indelicately, there is indeed a baby being birthed in there,” Roger agreed.
    Preacher shook his head.
    â€œIs there something wrong with that?” Roger asked.
    How to tell a man on the verge of being a proud papa that he was a damned fool for subjecting first a pregnant woman and then a newborn babe to the wilds of the Rocky Mountains? And on the verge of winter, to boot!
    Preacher just said, “Babies got a habit of comin’ into this world whenever they take a notion to, and there ain’t nothin’ anybody can do about it. You got anybody in there helpin’ the lady?”
    â€œMy wife is helping,” Peter said.
    â€œShe knows about such things, does she?”
    Roger said, “Both of our wives have had children before, Mr. Preacher. They’re not without experience in the process.”
    â€œNo mister, just Preacher.” He noticed three kids peeking at him from the back of one of the wagons. The oldest one appeared to be a towheaded boy about ten. The other two were a brown-haired girl, five or six years old, and a black-haired boy a year or so younger. They wore expressions of mingled fear and curiosity, but as usual with young’uns, curiosity had the upper hand.
    He told himself he could sort out who was who and which youngsters belonged with which set of parents later on, then decided he wouldn’t be around long enough for that to be necessary. But a moment later, as more screams came from one of the wagons, he knew that he wasn’t fooling anybody, least of all himself. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t ride off and leave these pilgrims to fend for themselves in the wilderness.
    â€œSounds like she’s havin’ a mighty hard time of it,” he commented.
    â€œIt’s been a difficult labor,” Roger admitted. “A difficult time for Dorothy all around, I’m afraid.”
    And yet you dragged her out