by Linda Ford
“I can’t wear that.” It hit Judith that it represented a union built on mutual love. Not that she’d be the first woman to marry for other valid reasons. And what better reason than to give Anna a family?
And eventually a home? The truth smacked her hard. Gil had been guiding on the Santa Fe Trail for a number of years. He wouldn’t be wanting to settle down. She drew in a solid breath. That suited her fine. She would be mother to Anna, and happy enough to have a husband who paid a yearly or twice-yearly visit. Where would she and Anna live? She could go back to Independence. There were no memories of Frank in that place.
Or she could go on to Santa Fe.
Luke and Donna Grace had plans to go on to California and start a ranch. Maybe she’d go with them. She and her brothers had grown up on a farm in Missouri. Her time there had been full of rich, vibrant memories. Her dreams for the future had been of a home and family as full of love and joy as she’d known as a child.
Somehow, she vowed, she would give that to Anna.
Of course, Gil might have some opinion about where Judith would go. Something she would deal with when the time came. For now, she meant to marry and raise Anna.
“I want you to,” Donna Grace said, holding out the mantilla.
Murmuring her thanks, Judith allowed Donna Grace to cover her hair with the lace.
Gil returned in the company of her brothers and Sam and Buck. He looked different without his customary cowboy hat and with his hair slicked back. His freshly shaven face gave him a leaner, younger look. How old was he? There were so many things she didn’t know about him.
“You look nice all cleaned up,” he murmured at her side.
“You too.” She grinned at him to let him know she took no offense at his comment.
“Thanks. Good to know.” He grinned back.
And then the reality of what they were about to do, robbed her of amusement. She chewed her bottom lip. Now was the time to back out if she had any doubts. Warren and Luke stood on either side of her and Gil as if to prevent either of them from changing their mind and trying to escape.
She straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. They might think they were forcing her to do this but she did it of her own free will.
She faced Reverend Shepton. This was going to work out just fine. After all, she’d seen lots of Gil in the weeks since they left Independence and knew him to be kind. Perhaps a bit on the quiet side. Not at all like Frank who had been full of life and laughter.
She pushed aside the stinging memory.
The thing Gil required of her—her loyalty and faithfulness—she could freely give.
Reverend Shepton called for the attention of their little group. In the background, the drivers watched, waiting, she supposed, for this to be over so they could get moving.
She and Gil said their vows before the reverend and then she heard the words, “I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss your--”
Gil grabbed his hat. “Time to get moving.” He vaulted into his saddle.
Judith couldn’t move. It had happened so fast. And ended so abruptly. Not that she wanted or expected a kiss. But he didn’t have to act like kissing her would have been worse than kissing his horse.
She released the air from her lungs. Truth was she didn’t know what she wanted or expected. She and Gil would both have to find their way together. Seeing as he was the scout and often absent, she foresaw life going on much the same as it had since they left on this journey except with the addition of a sweet baby girl in her life.
Buck swung to the back of his horse and rode toward the freight wagons calling, “Wagons ho.”
Luke and Warren sprang to their wagons. Polly handed Anna to Judith and climbed up beside her father. Donna Grace settled beside Luke, baby Elena still asleep in the back. Mary Mae stood beside the wagon, ready to walk.
Judith shifted Anna to one hip and looked about. Her place had been in the Russell wagon. She drove it part time when Warren was busy with his freight wagons.
She was now Mrs. Trapper and she had no idea where she belonged. Gil had freight wagons though she couldn’t say how many, but she wasn’t about to ride one of them.
What nonsense. She was still a Russell and she pulled herself up beside Warren and settled Anna on her lap. If the child got restless, she could play in the back or Judith would walk and allow Anna a chance to stretch her wee legs.
Judith and Warren rode without speaking as Judith played with Anna, enjoying the baby babble. So far she’d heard only one word she understood—mama. Judith would enjoy helping Anna learn more words, just as she’d teach her to enjoy life while avoiding danger. She fingered the white blonde hair that was little more than a fuzzy halo at the moment. Soon it would be long enough to braid. Soon too, she would outgrow the few dresses Gil had found. When they reached Bent’s Fort she would purchase fabric and make new ones. Anna would be beautiful in blue.
“Gil is a good man,” Warren’s words startled her from dreams and plans for a future shared with a little girl. She digested the comment for a moment.
“So was Frank.” She’d first seen him standing outside the Bird store looking at a sign that read ‘Opening Soon.’ He’d looked so pleased with himself that she had stopped and despite the impropriety of speaking to a stranger, she’d asked,
“Are you about to open a new business?”
“Yes, ma’am. Frank Jones at your service.” He’d given a courtly bow. He wore a dark gray suit with a patterned vest and tie. The hat he swept from his head was a pristine bowler. He was quite unlike the men she usually saw.
“What are you selling?”
“Right now everything in the store is free.” He opened the door to reveal an empty interior.
She’d given a little laugh. “There’s nothing but air in here.”
“And it’s all free.”
“It’s free outside your store too.”
“True enough. All the good things in life are free.”
He’d been such a happy-go-lucky man. He laughed at life and because of his attitude, she did too.
Which made his death all the more tragic. And the means so completely unexpected.
But she wasn’t going to think about that part.
“Did you hear me?” Warren asked, pulling her attention back to the here and now. “I said, I wish I had known Frank better. I only met him when I was home in the spring.”
“He was a good man.” She didn’t know why she felt she had to make Warren understand that. Except perhaps because Pa had spoken of his doubts when Frank’s business never opened. Frank always had an excuse. The shipment had been delayed. Or something else had gone wrong.
“And yet he continues to spend freely,” Pa had noted and it pained Judith that she could give no explanation to satisfy her father because Frank laughed off her questions about his finances.
“I’m sorry he is gone.” Warren squeezed her hands. “I know how painful it is.”
“I know you do.” Warren had lost his wife and child so he understood.
Gil rode toward the wagon.
Anna saw him and gurgled excitement.
“She recognizes him,” Judith murmured.
“Probably associates him with rescue.” Warren called a greeting to Gil.
Gil fell in beside the wagon. “I’m going to ride ahead and catch up to the other wagon train. The Harrises might have been part of that train. They might wonder what happened to the family.”
Judith pulled Anna closer wishing she could protect her from the awfulness of what had happened to her parents. No doubt she wondered at their absence. Judith fully expected the child would mourn in her own way and not understand why she was sad. When Anna grew older, Judith would find a way to tell her about her parents. That gave her an idea.
“Gil, find out as much as you can about them so when Anna gets older, we can tell her about them.”
“I’ll do that. I won’t be back for the noon meal.” He tipped his hat and rode away.
>
Judith stared after him. This was the man she’d married and she knew practically nothing about him. When would she get a chance to remedy that? Or did she even want to? Was it possible they could continue on as if the wedding vows of a few hours ago had never been spoken? He’d seemed as reluctant to marry as she. Her neck muscles tightened. What did he think their marriage meant? An ever more fearsome thought filled her brain. What if he found a family at the other wagon train? Would he change his mind about being married to Judith? About letting her keep Anna?
3
Gil rode slowly back toward the others. The wagons were already circled for the night. If only he had better news.
Buck cantered toward him.
Gil reined in and signaled the other man to stop while they were still a distance apart. “We’ll talk here.”
“What’s wrong?” the wagon master asked.
Gil relayed the news.
They both sat in silence for the space of a minute. Then Buck nodded. “We best tell everyone.”
Gil stayed behind Buck as they rode toward to the circled wagons. As Buck spoke to the others, Gil dismounted and waited. Horrified faces turned toward him as they understood why Gil stayed forty feet away.
Judith, with Anna in her arms, stepped past the wagons and walked toward Gil. He guessed she tried to appear calm but the skin on her face looked like it had shrunk.
“Diphtheria?” The word ground from her lips.
“I’m afraid so. The whole wagon is ill. Or at least exposed.”
“Is that what her parents had?”
“I don’t know. It was a bullet that killed them. But we must take every precaution to prevent spreading it to the others.”
She hugged Anna to her. “She’s been exposed. If she gets it—” Her voice choked off.
Gil cupped his hand to the back of Anna’s head. “We’ll know if a few days. In the meantime…”
“I know. We have to stay away from the others until the danger is past or—” Her voice thinned to nothing.
“We’re in this together. I will take care of both of you.” He draped an arm about her shoulders and pulled her close, feeling suddenly protective in an unfamiliar way. Their marriage was fresh and still unreal in his mind. He’d agreed only because he felt obligated. Perhaps in the back of his mind he hoped to find a suitable family on the wagon train and persuade Judith to turn Anna over to them. Then they could dissolve the marriage as if it never happened.
That was no longer an option, but Judith and Anna were now his responsibility and he meant to do his best by them.
She shivered. “I will nurse you if you get sick.” He could hear her swallow. “You were so exposed when you took care of the Harrises.”
It was true. He had carried the bodies to the graves he’d dug. He’d gone through their belongings. If they had the diphtheria, he had been thoroughly exposed. So had Anna. He’d heard the moans of the sick and the weeping of survivors at the distant wagon train. He stifled a shudder. For the sake of Judith and Anna, he must be strong.
His wife and child. Although he knew what the words meant, they held no meaning for him. Things had changed far too quickly for him to be able to feel any connection to them.
As the women transferred the belongings of the Russell wagon into the Clark wagon, Warren went out and got the mules.
“They will only leave enough for us to survive on,” he told Judith.
“I understand. If we have diphtheria everything will have to be burned.” She leaned into him as if needing something to hold her up. He stiffened his legs and steadied her.
Warren drove the wagon a hundred yards from the others then jumped down. He gave his sister a sad look, but stayed his distance. Gil and Judith waited until he had trotted away to go to the wagon.
While Gil unhitched the animals and tethered them where they could graze, Judith looked into the wagon. “Some bedding and clothing. They’ve sent food.” She straightened, her hands full. “I’ll make supper.”
Someone—likely Warren or Luke—had sent a supply of wood and Gil soon had a fire going. Judith had put Anna down in order to prepare the meal and she toddled to Gil and chattered up a storm.
“Honey, I don’t understand you.” He turned to Judith. “Do you know what she’s saying?”
“Sorry no. I just agree with everything and she seems happy.”
Gil wondered if he looked as shocked as he felt at her words. “What if you’re agreeing to something you shouldn’t?”
Judith laughed, her eyes flashing and her mouth widening.
At least she could still find humor despite the situation and he admired her for that.
“How would I know?”
Anna patted Gil’s cheek and he shifted his attention back to her. “She’s the picture of health, isn’t she, with her chubby cheeks.”
“She still has her baby fat.” Judith’s hands grew still as she studied Anna. “I hate that her parents have died. I hate that babies die. It doesn’t seem fair.” She returned to stirring a cornmeal mixture that she poured into a Dutch oven and set over the coals.
Anna had crawled to his lap and started bouncing. He held her hands to keep her from falling. When she bounced up, she rumbled her lips and giggled.
Judith watched them. “There’s nothing sweeter than a baby’s laugh.”
“I’ve seen babies before but I didn’t know they could play games.”
“No babies in your life?”
“None. I was an only child until my widowed father remarried and I gained an older brother. But no babies.” Ollie was a year older and had never welcomed a brother. Not that he was unkind. Simply indifferent both to Gil and to their father.
“Did you learn anything about her parents?”
He settled Anna on his knees and gave her a spoon to play with so he could concentrate on talking to Judith. “The man that came out to talk to me said they were a kind and loving couple. Always ready to help others. He said Mr. Harris had shared his supplies with another couple who had lost theirs in a river crossing even though it left them short. According to this man they hoped to make it to California.”
“Looking for gold?”
“I asked the same question, but apparently they hoped to find a bit of land and start a farm. He said the missus talked about taking in boarders to help with expenses.”
“They sound like a nice couple.” She checked the cornbread and decided it was done. She cut a piece and blew on it to cool it.
Before she did more, Gil reached a hand toward her. “Shall I ask the blessing?” He couldn’t think why he hadn’t prayed without thinking he should hold her hand but if he pulled back now she might misunderstand and think he didn’t want to touch her.
She took his hand and they each held one of Anna’s hands.
He let out a relieved breath as he bowed his heart, his heart full, but his mouth unable to voice any of his feelings. He cleared his throat. “Lord God of all the earth. I thank You for sparing this little girl’s life.” He had to pause to take a deep breath. “I humbly ask You to continue to do so. Thank You for food and shelter and warmth.” He wanted to say something more, but the thought hovered at the fringe of his brain and then he blurted out, “Thank you we can give Anna a family. Amen.”
He dropped Judith’s hand. Or did she drop his? She seemed to move with sudden haste, pouring a gravy mixture over the cornbread and drawing Anna close to offer her a spoonful.
“You can help yourself.” She nodded toward the food then brought her serious gaze to his. “Or do you expect to be served first? I’m sorry. I have no idea what you wish from me.”
“Relax.” He leaned against the wagon wheel. “I’ll wait and we’ll eat together when Anna is done.” He considered her question another moment. “Why would you think I expected you to serve me? I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. Have been doing so for a long time. In fact, I thought you would have seen that I can take care of myself in the days you’ve been traveling with
us.”
Her gaze darted away. “Some men expect certain things of a wife.”
He gave a shout of laughter that drew both Anna and Judith’s attention. “I thought I made myself clear. I have no need of a wife. Our marriage has one purpose and that is to provide a family for little Anna here.”
Anna turned back to the food and opened her mouth, waiting for Judith to fill it.
Judith’s eyes were dark and full of mysteries. They considered each other a moment before she returned to feeding Anna. Shortly thereafter, Anna refused any more. Judith set aside the bowl and picked up two plates and two forks, handing one of each to Gil. She removed a hunk of cornbread and offered it to him.
“Thanks.” Before she could spoon out the stew meat, he grabbed the spoon and offered her some.
“Thanks,” she said.
They both sat back, he against the wagon wheel, she closer to the fire. He half thought of bringing out his knife and slicing the air between them. He could build an invisible wall with the tension-filled bricks he’d cut. Was there some way he could ease the strain?
“What brings you out on the Santa Fe Trail?” He knew her parents were both living. Even with a dead fiancé, he wondered why she didn’t stay with them.
Judith had been lost in a thousand troubled thoughts. Had she done the right thing in marrying Gil? Should she have considered other options? But the most troubling of her thoughts was the fear of diphtheria. She ignored Gil’s question to ask one of her own. “What do you know about diphtheria?” Without waiting for an answer, she continued. “My mother told about an outbreak when Warren was small and how she feared he would get it. She said she didn’t leave the farm for six weeks while the disease raged.” The skin on Judith’s arms pebbled with a forbidding chill. “She said forty-five children and three adults died in that community before it ended.” She shuddered. “She said the children suffocated from gray membrane in their throat.”
“Judith, it isn’t always that bad. People survive.”
