Everlasting Hope

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Everlasting Hope Page 6

by Trace V. Bateman


  Then it came back to her. She stretched and smiled in guilty pleasure. The last time she’d slept in the middle of the day, she’d been ill with a raging fever.

  Tap, tap, tap.

  Now fully awake, Hope glanced toward the flap. “Yes?”

  A woman’s voice penetrated the veil between them. “Mrs. Riley?”

  The name never failed to give her pause. Could she really claim the title of Mrs. anyone when the marriage was a sham?

  “Just a moment,” she called. She pulled on her boots and smoothed her hair then tied up her berth and opened the flap.

  “Oh.” The sight of a muchtoothin, middleaged woman with haunting blue eyes met hers. “Can I help you?”

  “Are you Mrs. Riley?”

  “Yes, but I’d prefer to be called Hope.”

  The woman smiled, revealing the absence of several teeth. “Hope’s a nice name. I’m Lucille.”

  Hope took the woman’s proffered hand, finding herself relaxing and returning the woman’s smile. “I’ve never seen you around before. Are you traveling with the wagon train?”

  “No, ma’am.” She ducked her head. “But I’d like to. That’s what I’ve come to see you about.”

  “Let me climb down from here and maybe you’d best start from the beginning.”

  Lucille moved aside while Hope exited the wagon. Hope smoothed her skirt and smiled at the woman. She motioned toward the bench next to the wagon. Once they were settled, she turned to Lucille. “Now, what makes you think I can help you?”

  Twisting her hands together, Lucille took a few deep gulps of air. Finally, it appeared she had gathered enough courage, for she met Hope’s gaze, entreaty clear in her eyes. “My husband has been gone now for about three months, may he find peace for his wretched soul. I’m having a terrible time making ends meet in that onehorse town.”

  “I’m so sorry for your loss,” Hope said, covering Lucille’s hands with her own.

  “Don’t be sorry. I knew it was only a matter of time before he cheated the wrong man. If you want to know the truth, I’m surprised he lasted this long.”

  Taken aback by the woman’s icy stare and equally cold tone, Hope raised her eyebrows and stared back. “What is it you think I can help you with, Lucille?”

  The question seemed to bring the woman back to the present. Her words burst from her, and she squeezed Hope’s hand so tightly, Hope was afraid a couple of fingers might pop right off.

  A sob escaped Lucille’s throat and tears glistened in her eyes. “Oh. I have to get out of this town. Start a new life somewhere. When the wagon train stopped only a couple of miles from town, I thought perhaps the good Lord had finally heard my prayer. But the wagon master won’t let me come along. I have plenty of cash for supplies.”

  Hope nodded. “Let me guess, he told you no women are allowed to join the wagon train unless they’re married.”

  “Yes. And marriage is obviously out of the question.”

  “I understand exactly how you feel, Lucille. But I still don’t see what I can do.”

  Lucille gathered a slow breath and fixed Hope with a frank stare. “The wagon master said I might ask you for employment in exchange for a place to sleep in your supply wagon. I can provide my own supplies, but not a wagon.”

  “What sort of employment are you seeking?” Humiliation began deep inside Hope and released in the tone of her voice. She knew exactly what sort of employment the wagon master was referring to.

  The woman’s scarlet face attested to the fact. “I’m handy in a kitchen.” She smiled. “Or over an open fire.”

  Fighting between two emotions—indignation that the wagon master had dared bring attention to it and relief that help might have arrived—Hope scrutinized Lucille momentarily, then nodded. “Tell me about yourself.”

  ❧

  Andy frowned as he stood a little ways off from the creek and watched the children squealing and splashing about the water—all the children except the Parker children, that is. Gregory had no interest in cooling off in the creek with the rest of the children, so he’d left the boy repacking the supply wagon, putting new supplies in the back, and bringing the older goods forward.

  The twins sat glumly on the bank, legs crossed, chins resting on fists as they observed the merriment. Finally, unable to endure the curiosity a moment longer, he slipped from his clandestine position and strode to the bank.

  “Why aren’t you two swimming with the others?”

  Billy angled his head and looked upward at Andy, his eyes squinting in the brightness of the late afternoon sun.“We can’t.”

  “What do you mean? Did your ma tell you to stay out of the water?” If so, Andy would go and have a talk with her. One thing he admired about Hope was her ability to be reasonable.

  “That’s not it.” Betsy scowled up at him, as though he were a dolt for not knowing exactly what Billy meant.

  “What then?” Squatting down next to them so that they didn’t have to crane their necks to see him, he tugged one of her braids.

  “We can’t swim.”

  “What do you mean you can’t swim?” He and his brothers had learned to swim about as early as they learned to walk. He couldn’t fathom a circumstance whereby a child wouldn’t know such a basic skill.

  “We never went swimming.”

  “Well, it’s time you learned, then.” Andy hopped to his feet. “Let’s go.”

  Unabashed joy shone in both sets of eyes. “You mean it?” Betsy squealed jumping from the ground.

  “I sure do.”

  Billy’s eyes clouded. “Ah, we can’t let you teach us to swim in front of all the other children. They’ll laugh at us.”

  Andy saw their dilemma. “It’s all right. We’ll go down from camp a ways.”

  Betsy gasped. “Captain Jack said we’re not to walk away from camp because of redskins.”

  A grin threatened Andy’s lips. “Tell you what. I’ll protect you if we see any Indians, okay?”

  Truth be told, he had seen signs they were being followed for the past week, but felt certain it was more out of curiosity than a threat. If they’d wanted to harm the wagon train, the Indians would have more than likely attacked days ago.

  But doubt persisted in Betsy’s eyes.

  “We won’t go far,” he promised. “We’ll stay where we can see the others, but far enough away where they won’t know I’m teaching you to swim. How’s that sound?”

  A slow grin split her face. “Okay.”

  Both children were quick studies and before long had the basics down enough for Andy to retire to the bank to dry off while he kept an eye on them. Affection stirred inside his chest as he watched them splashing and listened to their giggles.

  “There you are.”

  Andy turned at the sound of Hope’s breathless voice. The circles that had darkened the skin beneath her eyes had faded a great deal, and he returned her relaxed smile.

  “You seem to be feeling better.”

  “I took a long nap, I’m ashamed to say.”

  “Nonsense. Today was for doing whatever you wanted to do. I’d venture to say the sleep did you a world of good.”

  She nodded. “I think so.”

  “Hi, Ma!” Billy called from the water. “Watch me swim!”

  A gasp escaped Hope’s throat. “They’re swimming?”

  Andy’s lips twitched. “What did you suppose they were doing out there?”

  “Wading.” She tossed the oneword answer without taking her gaze from the children in the water. “Bravo, Billy. That’s wonderful.”

  “Watch me!” Betsy piped in, never one to be outdone.

  “My, you both are quite the wonders, aren’t you?” She clutched the neck of her dress and lowered her voice. “Are you sure they know how to swim well enough to be out that deep?”

  Hearing the nervous tremor while she tried so hard to be brave for the children, Andy placed his hand on her shoulder. “Do you think I’d endanger their lives?”

 
She turned to him. “No. I suppose not.”

  “I’m fond of those youngsters of yours. You can trust me to do my level best to see nothing bad happens to them.”

  Almost as though she did it without thought, Hope reached up and covered his hand with hers. “Thank you, Andy. I do trust you with them. Greg’s been doing so well and the twins love you as though you were their real. . .” Her words faltered and she snatched her hand away. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “Forgetting the true nature of our marriage for a moment. It’s better if the children don’t love you, isn’t it? Considering the circumstances.”

  For an instant, Andy wasn’t so sure. Family life was beginning to grow on him, but he wasn’t sure if the settleddown sort of existence his brother, Michael, lived was something he could take day in and day out. He glanced at his bride. As much as he admired her spirit, he knew that was as far as it went. Every time he thought of her in terms of a wife, he remembered his beautiful Indian bride, and Hope paled in comparison. As unfair as it was to compare one woman’s appearance with another’s, he couldn’t help himself.

  She met his gaze and her cheeks flushed. Andy’s stomach dropped as he realized from the flash of hurt in her eyes that she had a pretty good idea where his thoughts had been. She cleared her throat and abruptly focused her attention upon the children in the water.

  “Billy. Betsy. Come on out of the water now and get dried off. Supper’s about ready.”

  “Supper?” Andy couldn’t help the surprise in his tone. “You didn’t need my help tonight?”

  She looked stung as she turned back to him. “No. I’ve hired a cook. A widow from town. She’s all alone and needed a means to join the wagon train. I felt it a good solution. And I know the rest of you will agree. Apparently, my plain looks aren’t the only thing that make me undesirable as a wife. But at least you and the children won’t have to endure my ineptness any longer.”

  “Hope, I’m sorry I hurt your feelings.”

  Turning her full body to face him, she met his gaze, her face expressionless except for her eyes. After years of associating with thugs, gamblers, drunkards, and thieves, Andy wasn’t accustomed to such unabashed honesty, and her frank stares never failed to unnerve him.

  “I am well aware of my shortcomings, Andy. I know that I am not beautiful, or even pleasant to look at. I know that I am a failure at learning to produce an edible meal. But I am not a fool nor am I a silly schoolgirl, so you needn’t worry about hurting my feelings. I’m not in love with you, and I’m perfectly content with our arrangement.”

  At a loss for words, Andy watched her whip around and stomp back toward the campsite. He grinned in spite of himself. He surely had that tonguelashing coming.

  But she was wrong about one thing. . .he found her pleasant to look at. She wasn’t beautiful in the obvious sense, but she was attractive in her own right. Especially when her eyes flashed in anger such as they had a moment ago, or in merriment, which was more common. Her figure wasn’t bad to watch, soft looking in all the right places. She could stir a man’s blood. As he followed her with his eyes, he suddenly wondered why she didn’t know that.

  What sort of man had married her and led her to believe she wasn’t desirable? He knew he had no right to wonder such a thing. But the thought stayed with him through the children’s lively chatter as they walked back to the campsite.

  The sound of her laughter reached him before he saw her, and he inwardly mocked himself for worrying about her. Apparently, she wasn’t wasting time pining away over whether or not he thought her desirable.

  “Who’s that?” Betsy asked. Andy’s gaze followed hers to a woman standing over their fire.

  “Your ma hired her to do the cooking.” Feeling disloyal to Hope, he clarified. “She needed a place to stay on the wagon train, so your ma decided to offer her a position in exchange for a place to sleep in the supply wagon.”

  Betsy and Billy exchanged looks of wonder.

  “What?” Andy asked, curiosity aroused by their uncommonly subdued attitude.

  “It’s another miracle,” Betsy breathed out in a barely audible tone.

  “Yeah,” Billy replied, his tone echoing his sister’s.

  “What sort of miracle?” Andy couldn’t resist a chuckle. The twins had made no pretense of their desire for more palatable meals.

  “We prayed for someone to do the cooking.”

  Gooseflesh rose on Andy’s arms and the hair on the back of his neck lifted. A chill crept up his spine and he shivered. “You mean you prayed your ma would learn to cook?”

  Billy shook his head. “No, sir. We figured it’d be easier on God if He just sent a whole different person to cook like Mrs. Smythe used to do.”

  “What made you think to pray about something like this?”

  Betsy grinned, her eyes bright with infectious excitement. “We figured God worked it out fine for us to come west. So we hoped maybe it was His will for someone to come and cook for us.”

  “So you prayed for God to let us come west, then you prayed He would send a cook?”

  “Yep,” Betsy said, her braids bouncing around her shoulders as she gave a vigorous nod. “And would you just smell that? What is it, Billy?”

  “I can’t tell. But it sure smells like something good.”

  “Let’s go find out how long before we eat.”

  Without so much as a goodbye, the twins ran off, leaving Andy to ponder whether the newest member of their company was a pleasant coincidence or the result of children’s faith.

  Eight

  Hope stood in the creek ankle deep, scooped up water, and rubbed it over her face and neck, enjoying the coolness after an unseasonably warm day for May.

  What a relief it had been not to have to bear the indignity of her disastrous attempts to produce something edible. The children were certainly grateful. Betsy had even insisted upon saying grace. Apparently, the twins had decided that this would be a new occurrence at mealtimes.

  Hope grinned into the night. She could indulge them that much. Whether Lucille’s presence was a result of Divine intervention or merely a welcome coincidence, Hope couldn’t have been happier to have the burden lifted from her shoulders.

  Lifting her skirt to her knees, she waded another step into the water.

  “You scared me to death, woman!”

  Hope screeched as Andy’s angry voice and the sound of boots splashing into the water broke her solitude. He grabbed hold of her arm and walked her from the water, none too gently.

  “Let me go! How dare you?” She jerked away, scowling at him in the pale moonlight.

  He matched her, glare for angry glare. “Didn’t you hear the captain’s orders not to leave the campsite?”

  “If I’m not mistaken,” she pointed out, “I am precisely at the location where you brought my children today for a swimming lesson.”

  “That was different.”

  Jerking her chin, Hope dropped to the ground and grabbed her stockings, her anger outweighing modesty at the moment. “I fail to see how.”

  Andy sat next to her, drawing a heavy breath. “For one thing, it was daytime and we were within sight of the camp. For another, I was with the children to protect them in case Indians showed up.”

  She pulled her boot on and reached for her other stocking. “Well, you needn’t be concerned about me. I can protect myself.”

  “Oh, really?” He leaned in dangerously close. “And how would you do that? I don’t see a gun.”

  Hope’s heart picked up at his uncomfortable nearness. Her hands shook as she slipped on her second boot. Suddenly conscious of her hiked up skirt, she stood, letting it drop to the tips of her boots. She cleared her throat, aware that he was still waiting for an answer.

  “Well, I don’t know exactly what I’d do until I’m faced with the situation. But don’t worry, I think quick on my feet.”

  Andy stared up at her from his spot on the ground. “Do you?” In one swift movem
ent, he reached and snagged her behind the knees. Hope’s arms flailed wildly as her legs shot out from beneath her. She gasped, landing hard on his lap. Strong arms encircled her.

  Andy’s warm breath tickled her face. She gulped, unable to move. Not sure she even wanted to.

  “How would you protect yourself in this situation?” he asked, his voice husky, sending tingles down her spine.

  “I. . .I don’t know. I have to be on my feet t–to think quick.” The absurdity of her own statement combined with the nervewracking closeness pulled a giggle from her throat.

  He chuckled then grew serious as his gaze swept her face, resting on her lips. And almost before she knew what was happening, his head swooped downward. Warmth flooded her as his mouth took hers, all at once gentle and demanding.

  New sensations coursed through Hope. She’d been kissed before, of course. But never like this. Conflicting emotions warred within her until finally she melted against him, matching him kiss for kiss. When his hands moved up her back, she suddenly came to her senses and dragged her mouth from his.

  “Stop,” she whispered.

  “We’re married, remember?” His impassioned tone was nearly her undoing. “We’ve both been married before.” He moved forward to reclaim her lips.

  Hope flattened her palms against his chest. “I said stop.”

  To her relief, he didn’t try to hold her. She stood quickly. Turning toward the water, she drew in deep gulps of air in an effort to compose herself. Her lips still tingled, and she swiped at them with the back of her hand.

  Andy gave a short laugh. “That bad, huh?”

  She turned back to him. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Wiping away my kiss?”

  More likely wiping away the unsettling effects of his kiss.

  He climbed to his feet and stood close. Her insides quivered with his nearness.

  His warm hand covered her shoulder and she closed her eyes, pushing back the impulse to lean her cheek against it. “I’m sorry I forgot myself for a few minutes. I guess I just wanted you to know that I find you to be a desirable woman.”

 

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