Sioned sighed as she watched the sere grasses of the plains go by. They were a far cry from the verdant green hills and valleys of Wales. She felt a pang of homesickness; not the first one she'd experienced since coming this country and she guessed it wouldn't be the last. Sioned glanced over at her father, hearing a faint humming and saw the look of contentment on his face as he held the reins of the team. If it kept a smile on his face, it was all worth it. But, if she had to be honest, even though they saw a number of other travellers, a few more days of trekking through these lonely, monotonous plains might drive her raving mad.
Sioned turned to the man on the bright sorrel riding beside the wagon. "Jarrod, have you any idea when we'll be getting off these plains?"
Jarrod pushed his hat back on his forehead, turning slightly and Sioned marvelled, not for the first time, just how bright a blue his eyes were. "Do you see that dark smudge on the horizon?" Sioned looked into the distance in front of them and nodded. "Unless I miss my guess, those are the Black Hills. Maybe four or five days if the weather holds. What, tired of my company already?" Jarrod gave her a wink, and then nudged his horse to canter a little ahead of them, not waiting for her reply.
Sioned smiled and shook her head slightly. Their travelling companion was becoming someone she could readily call 'friend'. He was more genteel and refined than most of the uncouth men they'd ran across since coming west, but that didn't mean she thought he was soft. He sat easily in the saddle, his posture as straight at the end of the long day as it was at the start, he took care of the camp chores briskly and efficiently and she'd seen his gentle sense of humour on more than one occasion. Sioned was glad she'd made her peace with Jarrod that first night on the trail.
"Now, I don't think you were ever saying sorry to your old da for your opposition to asking young Mr. Thomas to come along on this trip."
Sioned looked to her father, whose face sported a wide grin. "No, Da, I guess I didn't. My sincerest regrets for maligning your ability as a judge of character. I was just being upset at the type of people Mr. Utter was taking along on his expedition and I let that colour my reason." She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "And don't be worrying, I've already said my apologies to Jarrod."
"He seems like a good man."
"Aye, that he does." Sioned didn't say anything further, suspecting what was on her father's mind. She was glad he wasn't prone toward matchmaking; Sioned was quite capable of finding her own suitors if and when she was so inclined.
Jarrod Thomas did intrigue her. He was a fine figure of a man, tall, strong, with those blue eyes and dashing smile that were sure to have set many maidens' hearts aflutter, including, Sioned had to admit, her own. He was warm and unfailingly charming, but there was something else. The something she sensed he was hiding or running from. Jarrod didn't give off the impression that he was a wanted man, though she could be wrong. Many dishonest men were smooth and charismatic to better draw people into their schemes, but Sioned prided herself on being a good judge of people herself and that notion just didn't seem right.
No, what Jarrod was hiding was something to do with his family, of that she was sure. She'd seen him look at that picture from the newspaper several times and each time saw the unmistakable sorrow on his face. Sioned wished she could help, but even after knowing him for only a handful of days, recognized their travelling companion was a very private man and she just hoped he could come to terms with whatever was troubling him on his own.
.
"Now you do realize playing cards is an essential skill out here."
Sioned frowned as Jarrod laid out various arrangements of cards. "Just like gamblers are essential citizens for the town we're heading to?" she asked cynically.
Jarrod chuckled. "If nothing else, it's a good way to pass the time and it doesn't hurt to be able to tell a straight from a full house. Now, here's the order of poker hands from lowest to highest." Sioned studied the cards and soon had the various hands and rankings memorized. They collected their stacks of pebbles to use for betting and soon the game was being played in earnest. Sioned enjoyed the battle of wits, looking for telltale signs to tell her the strength of Jarrod's hand. But Sioned's pile of pebbles grew smaller as her opponent's blue eyes glimmered mischievously and a smile hovered around the corner of his mouth whether he had a pair or four of a kind.
Jarrod put down his cards as he heard the horses stamp and whinny nervously. "I wonder what that's about?"
Rhys got to his feet from where he was observing the card game. "I think I'll take a look."
There was something else in the air, but Sioned couldn't put her finger on it right away. Concentrating, she finally figured out what was making her uneasy. "It's too quiet."
"And it's getting dark too quickly." Jarrod stood as a brisk wind whipped up. "That looks like a storm coming up fast. Sioned, you check that the canvas on the wagon is tied down tight. I'm going to help your father with the horses."
Sioned checked the ropes fastening the canvas cover over their supplies as Jarrod and Rhys tried to calm the skittish horses, making sure they were picketed securely. Suddenly, lightning lit up the darkened sky and a peal of thunder boomed and echoed across the plains. The normally good-natured Jingo reared up in alarm, a front hoof lashing out, delivering a glancing blow to Jarrod's head. He crumpled to the ground and was still, the hooves of his horse dancing dangerously close to his inert form.
Sioned's heart froze. "Jarrod!" she cried and started to rush toward him, only to be stopped by her father's hand on her arm.
"Quietly and calmly, lass," he warned. "It won't do to have you injured by those flying hooves as well."
They both approached quietly, not wanting to spook the already nervous horse. Sioned spoke soothingly to Jingo as Rhys grabbed Jarrod under his arms and dragged him to the safety of the wagon.
"Da, grab the bedrolls," Sioned instructed, regaining her composure as heavy rain began to pelt the earth. "We'll not be getting a fire going in this wind and we need to keep him warm." Rhys hurried to do her bidding as Sioned pulled off the apron she was wearing and ripped strips from it, placing pressure over the gash on Jarrod's temple to staunch the bleeding, trying not to dwell on how serious the wound could be.
At least one thing could be said for the wind whipping around them, the rain was falling slantwise and it was relatively dry there under the edge of the wagon. She felt a bit sorry for the horses, but there was no shelter to be had in this wide expanse and all they could do was put their heads down and huddle together with their tails toward the stinging rain. Another flash of lightning and another roll of thunder, but this time, the horses just shifted restlessly. She looked back at the fallen man in front of her. The damage had already been done.
Rhys scurried to the relative shelter of the wagon with the bedrolls under his arm, still wrapped in their waterproof canvas. Sioned stretched one out and Jarrod stirred and groaned as they rolled him onto it.
Rhys patted his cheek lightly. "Come on now, lad, wake up and let us know you're still with us."
Sioned smoothed his forehead, sighing with relief as Jarrod's eyes opened slightly. "There we are. Can you remember what happened?" she asked, wanting to find out just how disoriented the blow to the head had left him.
Jarrod's brow furrowed in pain. "A storm… I was… kicked… by my horse." His reply was faint.
"And are you remembering your name?"
Another pause. "Jar…rod… Jarrod…Bar…kley." He fell unconscious again.
Sioned and her father looked at each other at the unexpected revelation.
"Well, we knew he was leaving something from his past behind," Rhys observed.
Sioned brushed back the dark hair. "We all have something we're leaving behind, Da. And Thomas or Barkley, I do believe he's a good man."
The fierce storm only lasted another couple hours and the waning moon came out, bathing the rain-drenched prairie in its faint light. Jarrod woke a few more times, each time a bit more lucid than the one before and when asked, stated his name as 'Jarrod Thomas'. The Llewellyns decided to keep quiet about his earlier disclosure, figuring their new friend's true name was his secret to keep.
.
As the sun rose to a clear, crisp morning, Sioned started a fire with the only slightly damp wood Jarrod had recommended they always keep under cover. After the cold, uncomfortable night, she needed a hot breakfast and hot coffee and was sure her menfolk would too. She laughed to herself when she realized she had included Jarrod as hers along with her father, and decided she might as well claim that responsibility being the only woman out there to look after him. Rhys rose not long after and took it upon himself to see to the horses while they let Jarrod rest.
The coffee brewed, Sioned was pouring herself a cup when she heard a faint groan coming from the bundle of blankets beside the wagon. Taking the coffee with her, she went to Jarrod's side and helped him sit up before handing him the steaming cup.
"And how are you feeling this fine morning?" she greeted him cheerfully.
Jarrod tried to smile, wincing and briefly raising a hand to his bandaged head before taking a sip of the coffee. "Is it?"
"Is it what? Fine or just morning?" Sioned said with a hint of saucy humour.
"Either, both. Whichever seems more accurate."
Sioned looked around before looking back at Jarrod. "Well, the sun is shining and you're still among the living. I think that's enough to qualify as a fine morning."
Jarrod smiled as he regarded the contents of his cup. "I suppose you're right. But my head begs to differ."
Sioned patted his hand. "You just sit right there and I'll bring you some breakfast when it's ready."
She went back to the fire and flipped the biscuits on the griddle along with the frying bacon. Rhys stopped to speak to Jarrod when he finished grooming and harnessing the horses, then came over to the fire.
"I was informing Jarrod he's to just ride in the wagon while you drive, Sioned, and I'll be riding that horse of his," Rhys told her while he helped himself to coffee and breakfast. "I would've told him we'll be staying put today, but I don't think he'd be going along with that."
"I'll keep an eye on him," Sioned reassured her father with a shake of her head. "Men. Stubbornest beasts on this green earth."
"Well, that's the pot calling the kettle black," he teased, but she ignored him as she took some breakfast over to Jarrod.
At the smell of the bacon, Jarrod's complexion paled. "I don't think I quite feel up to eating yet," he apologized.
Sioned smiled sympathetically. "A knock on the head will be doing that to you. Are you sure you don't want to stay here today? I'll not begrudge an extra day to get to Deadwood."
"And why would that be? I hear all the best people are flocking there." His grin was devilish, but was replaced by a flash of pain as he tried to stand.
Sioned grabbed his arm before he fell over and positioned herself under it. "If you must stand, at least lean on me." She hadn't been that close to him before and her face grew warm as she felt the strength of the muscles under his shirt.
Jarrod leaned against the side of the wagon as Rhys hurried over. "Now, Jarrod, you had a nasty whack on the head. Let us be helping you for a bit." He took his daughter's place at Jarrod's side. "Sioned, why don't you be cleaning up camp and I'll help the lad into the wagon before hitching up the team."
Sioned nodded her agreement and went to tidy up the breakfast things and put out the fire. Thinking about the feeling she had when Jarrod leaned against her, she knew she had been right earlier, and a finer morning she had never seen.
