by Merry Farmer
TRAIL OF LONGING
Copyright ©2015 by Merry Farmer
Amazon Edition
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Cover design by Erin Dameron-Hill (the miracle-worker)
ASIN: B00RQOJA9K
ISBN: 9781311377890
Paperback:
ISBN-13: 978-1505658231
ISBN-10: 1505658233
Trail of Longing
By Merry Farmer
For Lady Jai
who has supported me from the beginning
and who knows the scars that wars can leave
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
Trail of Dreams sneak peak
Chapter One
Nebraska Territory, 1863
Dr. Dean Meyers was the most beautiful thing Emma Sutton had ever seen. He was tall and graceful, with a smile that cheered the prairie. He was walking several wagons in front of her, consulting with Mrs. Weingarten about her sore knees, but Emma could still see his profile and the light of kindness shining in his eyes. His back was broad and straight. Sunlight seemed to dance off of the rich dark brown of his hair. After being on the trail heading west to Oregon for over two weeks, he’d let it grow a little too long, but he wore it well. He had a handsome, strong face as well—a straight nose, a fine brow, and a square jaw. Weeks of being in the sun had tanned his skin, but, unlike some of the other men, he shaved every day.
He turned his head in her direction. For one breathless second, Emma’s heart stopped when it looked like he might catch her spying on him. She glanced down, off over the rolling grass, up to the sky—anything to avoid his eyes—cheeks flushing pink. As soon as it felt safe, her gaze drifted back to him, or rather to the back of his head. He hadn’t seen her after all. She let out a breath of relief.
Emma went on daydreaming. Dr. Meyers—Dean—was so noble, so gentle with the sick and injured that he treated. Mrs. Weingarten was clearly having a hard time walking, but he offered her an arm and supported some of her weight. Emma heard him insist that she should ride, even going so far as to appeal to her husband to convince her to hop into their wagon. Mrs. Weingarten was having none of it, which came as no surprise. Emma couldn’t hear their conversation, but she saw the admiration in her older friend’s eyes. Why ride in a wagon when you could walk to Oregon on Dean Meyers’ arm?
Yes, Emma sighed, hugging herself with a far-away smile, she was in love. Completely, hopelessly in love.
Thank God Dean didn’t know.
“Miss Emma. Miss Emma! Look what I found.”
Emma’s thoughts were pulled down to earth as one of the Pickett children, whom she was watching for the afternoon, ran up to her. Sadie stretched out her arm and opened her hand to reveal a large, brown beetle.
“Oh,” Emma gasped and missed a step. Her instinct was to shy away from the creature. If she was being honest, her instinct was to shy away from everything. She forced herself to laugh, and placed a hand on Sadie’s head. “My, what an impressive beetle.”
“It’s the biggest one I’ve found yet,” Sadie told her, smile as grand as the prairie. “I bet I could find a bigger one. This place is full of bugs.”
“I don’t doubt it.” Emma smiled, her heart still in her throat as Sadie rushed off. She and her brothers and sisters really were sweet children, if a bit unruly. Sadie’s hair hadn’t been washed or braided in days, and she had smudges on her joy-filled face. Her dress was dusty and frayed at the hem and she and her siblings had made most of the journey barefoot. Not one of them seemed to mind, though, and Mrs. Pickett was happy to let them run wild. She had told Emma that shoes were expensive, but the memory of making their way west to their new home was priceless. As long as they stayed away from the miners traveling with them, they were free to run and catch bugs and pick flowers until they exhausted themselves.
The Pickett children were some of the happiest people in their wagon train, and Emma loved walking with them. She enjoyed the limited time she was able to walk with her friends, Lynne Tremaine and Callie Lewis—who was now Callie Rye—but her friends were busy elsewhere these days. Callie had married John Rye in a rush after her brother and his family died, and now spent most of her time getting to know her husband. Lynne claimed she was distracted with chores and concerns over certain threats that had been made against her. Emma wasn’t sure she believed Lynne’s assertion that someone was trying to kill her. In truth, whether she saw it or not, Lynne wanted to spend her time with her handsome escort, Cade Lawson. Now and then Emma was able to walk or ride with Mrs. Weingarten, but she wouldn’t dream of interrupting her older friend’s consultation with Dean. That left Emma the choice of walking with her family or walking with the children.
Her mother and sister, Alice, rode in their family’s wagon several yards behind. Emma glanced over her shoulder to check on them. Alice was nowhere in sight, probably huddled in the back of the wagon, out of the sun. They shouldn’t tire the oxen by making them pull extra weight, but after all Alice had been through back in New York, Emma wasn’t about to scold her for riding. Her mother, on the other hand, sat on the wagon’s seat beside her father, probably giving him a constant string of instructions about how to best drive an ox-drawn wagon, even though she’d never driven so much as a pram in her life.
Emma smiled and shook her head at the thought. Mother was who she was, and Father had loved her anyhow for more than a quarter century. It was a love like that—a love that existed in spite of frivolity and annoyance and the occasional burst of temper—that Emma wanted for herself. She glanced forward once more, looking for Dean Meyers.
He was watching her. As he walked with Mrs. Weingarten, he looked over his shoulder. At her. His sun-kissed face lit up with a smile. Emma’s heart fluttered fast enough to fly right out of her chest, and her knees threatened to give out and turn to butter. She immediately lowered her head, a deep blush spreading across her cheeks. He couldn’t have been looking at her, could he? Surely he was just checking on something behind her.
She had almost worked up the courage to peek when Sadie came running back to her. “Miss Emma. Miss Emma! I found a baby snake.”
Emma gasped. Her fluttering heart pounded hard against her ribs and threatened to plummet into her stomach as little Sadie held up a small, wriggling snake. It was no more than six inches long, and thin as a pencil, but Emma had to swallow the urge to scream.
“It’s very nice,” she managed to say in a shaky voice.
“Do you think it wants to come to Oregon with us?” Sadi
e asked, her head cocked to one side.
“Oh, I think it would miss its home too much if you brought it along,” Emma replied, hand pressed to her chest.
“Huh.” Sadie lowered her snake. “I guess it—ouch!”
Sadie stumbled. She dropped her snake and would have fallen, but Emma reached out and caught her.
“Are you all right?” she asked, scooping the little girl in her arms.
She was too heavy for Emma to carry her far. After a few steps, she stopped and crouched to hold Sadie on her lap. Sadie moaned and grabbed her foot. Bright red blood spread through her fingers, dripping to the dusty ground. Emma’s stomach lurched. She didn’t have time to faint at the sight of blood, though, so she swallowed and held Sadie tighter.
“What seems to be the problem?”
Emma’s stomach flopped again, but this time because of the butterflies that filled it. She forced herself to look up into Dean’s kind, smiling face. The sun framed him from behind, wreathing him in light. Far ahead, Mrs. Weingarten looked back at the scene with a knowing smile, then walked on. Emma’s concern for Sadie, her fear of the snake—all of it was forgotten as her heart thundered in her chest.
Still smiling, Dean crouched in front of her. “Oh dear,” he said in a voice that was both compassionate and light-hearted. “It looks like we’ve had an accident.”
Emma’s mind raced to figure out what she’d done wrong. Had she caused some sort of disaster already? Was he scolding her for it? Did he hate her?
“I stepped on something,” Sadie groaned.
All at once, Emma remembered where she was, who she had in her arms, and what had happened to the poor girl. Her face burned scarlet. She hugged Sadie closer.
“Let’s take a look, then,” Dean said.
He reached for Sadie’s foot and turned it over to look at the sole. A long cut bled profusely, but he didn’t bat an eye. He took a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at Sadie’s wound as though she were the queen and he was her humble servant.
“Well, we’re in luck. It doesn’t look like a splinter or glass. Nothing appears to be stuck inside. I’ll need to clean the wound to be sure.”
“Will it hurt?” Sadie asked, voice quivering.
Dean smiled. He glanced to Emma as though they shared a secret only grown-ups knew. “It’s nothing a brave snake-tamer like you can’t handle.”
“Oh.” Sadie brightened.
Dean ruffled her hair and slipped a hand under Emma’s arm to help her stand, Sadie still in her arms. Tingles of joy spread up Emma’s arm from the spot he touched.
“Perhaps your friend here can help carry you back to your wagon and help us find water and clean bandages,” he said to Sadie, then looked at Emma and asked, “Miss?”
Emma opened her mouth, but nothing came out. For two and a half weeks—eighteen days and about six hours—she’d been watching Dean, studying his handsome face, his broad shoulders, his ready smile. Days in which she hadn’t once worked up the nerve to speak to him or even tell him her name. Now that he was asking, Lord help her, but she couldn’t remember what it was.
Miss Emma Sutton was far and away the most charming young lady in the entire wagon train. Dean had watched her with the children, watched her go to great lengths to help her family every time the wagons stopped. He’d watched her watching him. Now here they were, face to face, primed for an introduction at last, and silence reigned. Her delicate face flushed pink and her soft lips opened, as if inviting a song to come to her.
He leaned closer to Sadie, tucked safe in Emma’s arms. “Perhaps her name is too beautiful to be spoken aloud?” he asked.
Sadie giggled. “No it isn’t. It’s just plain Miss Emma.”
“Miss Emma.” Dean spoke her name slowly, savoring each syllable. He let his gaze drift up from Sadie to meet Emma’s beautiful eyes, so blue they were almost violet. She held his look for half a moment before glancing away, her cheeks pinker than ever. “That’s not a plain name at all. It’s as pretty as a flower.” And so was she, with her sun-golden hair and soft skin, tanned from the journey in spite of the fashionable bonnet she wore.
Sadie continued to giggle and squirm in Emma’s arms, bringing Dean back to the situation at hand.
“We’d better get that foot of yours taken care of,” he went on. He turned and searched for Sadie’s family wagon. When he found it, he gestured for Emma to walk with him. “Right this way, Miss Emma Sutton,” he said as they walked.
“You… you know?” Emma asked, breathless. She still wouldn’t meet his eyes.
“I must confess, I do,” he said. “I’m surprised that we haven’t been formally introduced before now.”
“You greeted us on the third day out of Independence,” Emma said, in a voice so small he had to lean closer to hear. Not that he minded. “You were introducing yourself to everyone in the wagon train. You spoke to my father.”
“I did.” Dean remembered it well. He’d nearly missed the man’s handshake because he’d just laid eyes on Emma and the Earth had tipped on its axis. “But the two of us haven’t truly made each other’s acquaintance. We have now.”
“Yes.” She smiled a secret smile that made him want to know more.
Too bad they reached the back of the Pickett family wagon at that point. Dean took Sadie from Emma’s arms and sat her on the back of the wagon as it continued to move slowly forward.
“Land sakes, Sadie, what have you done?” Mrs. Pickett sat up from where she had been napping in the wagon bed and scooted to the back to lift Sadie into her lap.
“Nothing to worry about, Mrs. Pickett,” Dean told her. “She’s cut her foot on a sharp rock or possibly a stick. I’ll need to clean and bandage her up is all.”
“You wild child,” Mrs. Pickett said, somewhere between scolding and praising her daughter. “Bessie, bring that pail of water over here.”
A younger girl riding in the wagon pulled a small pail to the edge of the wagon. Walking the whole time, Dean washed Sadie’s foot, made certain there was no debris in her cut, then wound a clean strip of cloth around the foot as a bandage. Emma walked beside him, radiating shy, silent approval for his actions. He couldn’t help but grin as he treated Sadie.
“There,” he said at last when he was finished, and ruffled Sadie’s hair once more. “Give it a couple of days, keep it clean, and ride in the wagon instead of walking and you’ll be back to chasing snakes and toads all across the prairie.”
“Thank you, Dr. Meyers,” Mrs. Pickett said.
“Thank you,” Sadie echoed a moment later at her mother’s prompting.
“And thank you, Miss Sutton, for watching out for this wild thing,” Mrs. Pickett finished.
“She makes a perfect nurse, don’t you think?” Dean added.
“Oh, I,” Emma started, flustered. “I….”
“There you are.” A new voice cut into their conversation.
Dean and Emma both turned to see Emma’s mother striding toward them along the line of the wagon train. Mrs. Sutton may have been small in stature, with gray hair styled in an elaborate twist at the back of her head and clothes a shade too fancy for the trail, but what she lacked in size she made up for in personality.
“Emma, dear, I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Alice has grown so melancholy in this heat and I was hoping you could—oh.” She stopped short when she saw Dean. “Oh, Dr. Meyers. I had no idea you were….” She trailed off, glancing to her daughter with a carefully suppressed smile.
“Emma was helping me treat little Miss Sadie Pickett’s injured foot,” he explained. He gestured for Emma and her mother to step to the side of the moving wagons so that they could walk without being hurried.
“Oh. Oh, I see,” Mrs. Sutton answered. “Emma, I didn’t realize you and the doctor were friends.”
If Dean wasn’t mistaken, a flash of wariness crossed Emma’s face. “He came to help Sadie,” she said, glancing up at him at last with a smile. “She cut her foot while walking.”
&
nbsp; Mrs. Sutton huffed. “I’m surprised she hasn’t run off and tripped in some creature’s hole and broken her neck.”
“Mother, Sadie is an active child. She needs to play and explore,” Emma defended her.
“I quite agree.” Dean took her side. “After all, what are doctors for if not to patch people up when they’ve gone too far testing their limits?”
His comment earned a bright smile from Emma that made him feel six inches taller. It also earned a look of shrewd appraisal from Mrs. Sutton.
“Perhaps this is a blessing in disguise,” she said. “I keep meaning to make sure that the two of you young people are introduced.”
A familiar old tickle raced down Dean’s back. If he had a penny for every time he’d heard a mother say those words, he could buy himself a castle. Proud mamas had been throwing their daughters at him since he was fresh out of medical school. This time he didn’t mind so much.
“Emma, did you make a proper introduction with Dr. Meyers?” Mrs. Sutton asked her daughter, like a schoolmarm asking if a student knew their times tables.
“I….” Emma flushed redder than she already was. “That is….”
“Introductions were indeed made, Mrs. Sutton. Sadie is quite the proper lady and made certain everything was said that should be said,” he added with a wink.
Emma glanced down, a wide smile spreading across her delicate lips.
Mrs. Sutton seemed less certain. “I hope that—”
She was cut off by the sound of a muffled smack, followed by shouting. The three of them turned to the back of the wagon train in time to see several of the miners that were traveling with them peel away to the side.
“You cheat! You no good cheat,” one of the miners shouted. He raised a fist, but before he could land a blow, the man he had called a cheat pounded him in the gut. A few other miners ringed the two who were fighting, shouting encouragement. The first miner threw his punch and landed it on the second one’s face, sending blood flying.
