Emery sat on the bench watching the days pass and the brown winter land drift by. The wagon of little girls was moving farther away from any civilization. Each mile she calmed knowing there was less chance her father would find her. He’d beat her sister the first time she’d run away. She couldn’t walk for days, but as soon as she was strong enough she ran again.

Emery hoped she made it to that better life this time.

Farms and small groups of family homes often gathered in a circle. Trapper said they were often called forts because the group felt safer together. But she spotted homes or barns less and less as the road became more of a trail. Even the weather seemed wild away from all civilization and the wind howled at night like a wild animal.

A comfortable loneliness settled over her. She enjoyed the girls, but they weren’t hers. She’d left her family and was surprised how much at peace she was about her choice. Part of her lived inside her memories when all she wanted to do was forget them. To do that, she’d have to make a new life.

Trapper was always polite. He never asked too many questions and when she didn’t answer one, he didn’t seem to mind.

They talked from time to time, but neither had much to say. He told her he’d been a gambler. When he asked if she’d ever been in a saloon, she knew he truly didn’t know she’d been the ragged girl who’d served him dinner many times.

Trapper had no problem finding game, rabbits, wild turkey, and fish. Near the end of the day he’d ride ahead to set up camp. He’d have a fire going and the meat roasting before they arrived.

Number Three, the princess with the old hat for her crown, asked if she could ride Midnight. Trapper said she could if she’d stay close.

Em wasn’t surprised when Three knew how to ride.

Emery decided she’d always sit next to Number One when Trapper left to find the next camp. The oldest of the colonel’s daughters drove while Emery rested a rifle over her lap. Any sign of trouble and she’d promised to fire a shot. Two, an eleven-year-old and painfully shy, and her sister Three had orders to watch out the back of the wagon. Though they were only a year apart and had the same auburn hair, Two seemed much older. Number Three never took off the hat that looked like she’d found it on the boat. She usually did the talking for them.

All the girls had switched into what they called their Saturday dresses. They were plain but well-made, and much easier to climb around in.