White Wolf by Susan Edwards

do, one that required skill and a clear mind. Hands on his hips, he drew in a deep breath and scanned the lined-up wagons.
    “All set, boss. They’s jest awaitin’ on you now.” Rook waved his pipe in the air. “Only the Macauleys’ wagon is missin’.”
    “How do they look, Rook?” He knew the answer in advance.
    Years of close association showed in Rook’s toothy grin. “Green, boss. All green, but reckon they’ll learn fast enough,” the tough trapper answered, tugging at his bushy white beard.
    “They’d better, my friend. I’m setting a hard pace. We’ve got cattle to deliver by fall.”
    Wolf started with the two wagons belonging to the Jones party. With Jordan and Elliot at his side, he checked the rigging, the condition of the oxen and the wagon from wheel to wheel. Glancing in the back, he ran his experienced eye over the load, mentally calculating the load weight and the food supply.
    Hopping over the wagon tongue, he peered into the front end of the second wagon. One brow rose when he saw Jordan’s bride. Coralie Jones sat perched on a wooden box wearing a fine linen dress of pale lilac. Her skirts fluffed out around her, and a matching frilly bonnet sat upon her head. Glancing down, he noted the thin-soled and spooled heels of her shoes. He bit back a groan. They were totally unsuited for walking. He pulled Jordan aside. “Don’t mean to interfere, Jordan, but your wife is dressed for Sunday church.” A thread of impatience crept into his voice.
    Jordan let out a long, pained sigh. “Yeah, I know, but she refuses to wear anything else.” He sent Wolf a wry shrug. “I packed practical clothing for her for when she’s ready to be reasonable. I figure it’ll only take a day, two at the most, before she realizes I’m right.”
    Wolf nodded his understanding, well acquainted with the stubbornness of the female of the species. Watching Coralie lean out of the wagon to talk to her friends who’d come out to see her off, he felt a small measure of relief that Jordan wasn’t blinded by his wife’s doll-like beauty. “Perhaps you should stay with the wagon for a few days. I can do without you for a bit,” he offered, even though the first three days on the trail with cattle were the most difficult.
    Jordan knew it too. “No need, Wolf. Elliot and Jessie will be here to help Coralie during the day, and I’ll be with her most evenings.”
    Wolf nodded and glanced around in search of the youngest Jones brother. He spotted Jessie patting one of the oxen on the rump. He winced at the idea of Jessie and Coralie beingtogether all day long. The incident he had witnessed from the saloon window was still fresh in his mind; he could well imagine the boy’s idea of “help.”
    No, expecting Jessie to help his sister-in-law was just asking for trouble. Another concern came to mind as he stared at the two teams of oxen. “Elliot’s in charge of one wagon, but who’s in charge of the other one? I can’t see your wife being up to that task quite yet, Jordan.”
    Jordan nodded toward Jessie. “Jess.”
    Wolf frowned and narrowed his eyes at the boy’s slender frame. “The boy doesn’t look strong enough to handle a team of four yoke. It takes a lot of muscle to handle eight oxen.” He kept to himself the thought that Jessie certainly couldn’t be trusted to do the job.
    Shoving his hands on his hips, Wolf glanced around. “I’ll ask Lars Svensson if his youngest boy is free to help Elliot with the other team, unless you’d rather stay with your family instead of riding herd?”
    Jordan shook his head and adjusted his hat. “No need, boss. Jessie’s stronger than s—” Jordan coughed. “Stronger than he looks. He trained and gentled one team of oxen. Elliot will handle them while Jessie breaks in the new ones on the trail. They’ll be fine on their own.”
    Wolf eyed Jessie doubtfully. The older brothers seemed to expect a lot from their young sibling. The feeling that he needed to keep