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He told the wagon master about the encounter, and they agreed to press on until dark, to put as much distance as possible between the Indians and themselves.Indeed, the sun was already going down when they stopped for the day. Their rest place was a grassy patch on the side of a small creek. They circled the wagons and used a small, smokeless fire to prepare the evening meal. The tired men went to sleep in their boots, their weapons beside them, while two men stood guard. With eight men on the train, they could divide the guard duty between four watches. Jim volunteered for the fourth watch, from three o'clock to dawn, the time most likely to see an Indian attack. All stayed calm, however. After dawn, Jim circled the camp site in a wide arc, but he did not see any signs of Indians in the vicinity. After a hearty breakfast, they were back on the trail.With the mule wagons, they could travel twenty miles a day, a pace slower than the one Jim could do on his horses. The few rivers they. I love her pot roast.”“I’m glad,” she said as she kissed me again before turning away.Dad followed her with his eyes. “I like her, John. Daisy was drop dead beautiful on the outside, but she was rotten as hell on the inside. Sara is very attractive on the outside even though she’s no Daisy, but her best is inside her…who and what she is. I think you’ll be very happy. Can we expect grandkids in the future?”“As soon as humanly possible, if I have anything to say about it.” I smiled broadly as Sara reappeared carrying two big glasses filled with PBR—Pabst Blue Ribbon--the beer of my youth and Dad’s favorite, too.She noticed our huge grins. “What? Oh, I get it, talking about me, were you?”I rose to take the beer she offered, sweeping her into my arms for a long deep kiss. “Guilty as charged,” I whispered just loud enough for Dad to hear. Sara laughed then kissed my cheek as she walked back out to help Mom. Dad and I spent the afternoon watching college football. Dinner was.
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