by Linda Ford
“Blade will do.”
Gil didn’t ask why that name. He carved the letters into the wood, took the shovel that he’d made Captain relinquish and drove the stake into the ground.
He tied Captain, secured him to his horse and they made their way to the wagon train where they introduced their prisoners to Frenchie.
Gil got a touch of satisfaction out of the fear in the two men’s eyes as Frenchie lifted them bodily and none too gently, into the back of his freight wagon.
Then, and only then, did Gil allow himself to admit the fear he’d felt at knowing he might not get back to Judith and Anna.
Not wanting to face her while he felt so vulnerable, he told Buck he would check out the spot where they would spend the night.
He returned to the wagon train half an hour before they would stop and rode beside Warren’s wagon. To his surprise, Mary Mae drove it.
“Where’s Warren?” he asked.
“Some problem back at the freight wagons. One you might know something about. Seems two criminals have joined our midst and were kicking up a fuss.”
“Where’s Anna and Judith?”
“She and Donna Grace are out walking.” She pointed to the right and he saw them a distance away near the Plum Buttes. He rode over.
Anna saw him first and hollered, “Papa.”
Judith turned and watched him approach. He couldn’t read her expression except to note that she didn’t seem too welcoming.
He swung from his saddle.
“I’ll leave you two alone,” Donna Grace said, and with her baby cradled in a sling across her front, she hurried away.
Judith held Anna’s hand to keep her from following and waited for Gil to come closer. She studied him from top to toe. “Buck said you weren’t hurt, but I’m relieved to see it for myself.”
“I should have known the news would make its way throughout the train.” He hadn’t wanted her to know. Didn’t want her to worry. And yet it pleasured him some to know she did.
“I’m just glad you’re safe.” She shuddered. “It could have turned out so much differently.”
He removed his hat and held it with both hands at his chest. “God watches over us or none of us would safely make this trip.” He tossed his hat aside, closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around her. “My biggest concern was I might not get back to you and Anna.”
Anna clung to his leg.
Judith’s arms circled his waist, her face pressed to his shoulder. “I was so scared when I heard what happened. And then not to be able to see you for half the afternoon.” She shuddered. “Would it have hurt you to let me know you were okay?”
“Buck surely informed you.”
“All Buck said was everything was okay. The man could get an award for the way he saves words.”
Gil chuckled at her tone. “Not much point in saying anything when there’s nothing to say.”
She leaned back. “Two captives and from what I hear, one dead man. You call that nothing?” She pulled him to the ground and they sat side by side, Anna playing at their feet.
“Tell me all about it.”
Not wanting to frighten her, he sketched out the scene in a few words. “I almost missed the little hole in the wall. I believe God directed me to it.”
“I’m grateful He did. I have no desire to be a widow at my age.” She rested her head against his shoulder and he rested his cheek against her hair.
This was what he wanted. A woman who cherished him. He would have said more, shared from the fullness of his heart, but he had decided to court her and win her heart and he wasn’t one to rush ahead of himself.
Besides, he enjoyed the thought of many special moments shared with her.
This was just the beginning of that process and he meant to make the most of it.
13
The wagons rumbled onward but Judith did not want to end this moment with Gil. She’d been glad to visit with her sister-in-law, but now she wished she could stay there with him for a long time.
Oh, how she’d worried and fretted when she heard about the prisoners in one of the freight wagons. Warren had said they were a rough pair threatening all sorts of evil upon their captors.
“Three against one,” Warren had said. “It’s amazing that Gil escaped with his hide in one piece.”
But no one said for certain his hide was unharmed. The men dismissed the incident as simply part of an ordinary day on the trail. The women shared her concern but could offer no reassurances because Gil had ridden away without allowing Judith the chance to make sure he was okay.
And now he sat beside her, whole and unharmed and she didn’t want to let him go.
His horse waited, shifting from foot to foot as if impatient.
She wanted to scold the animal and tell him to settle down, tell him Gil was staying with her so the horse might as well go find something else to do. Of course, she didn’t. Wouldn’t Gil think her foolish if she did? But she was happy enough to sit with his arm about her shoulders and with his cheek pressed to her hair. Only the passage of the slow moving wagons made her accept that they must move.
Gil got to his feet and pulled Judith to hers. She held Anna while he took the reins of his horse and hand in hand, they followed after the wagons, catching up as they circled near the foot of three buttes.
“They’re known as Plum Buttes,” Gil explained. “Those bushes circling the buttes are wild plums.”
Judith looked at the bushes with interest, her mouth watering at the idea of fresh fruit. “Will there be any still on the bushes?”
“The season is over,” he said.
“Wouldn’t hurt to look.”
He swung her hand and grinned. “I’ll take you there. How would you like that?”
“I’d like it very much.” Something about the gleam in his eyes made her lower her head.
They passed the wagon where the man Gil had told her about—Frenchie—lifted out the two prisoners.
Judith watched with satisfaction as Frenchie tied them by the ankles and secured them to the nearest wagon wheel, ignoring the dire threats the men yelled.
Frenchie straightened and jammed his large fists to his hips. “Got some stinky old socks I can stuff in your mouths if you don’t keep quiet.” His voice was loud and with his French accent, carried the hint of a threat.
The two men swallowed back their words.
Judith waited until they were out of earshot to laugh. “You say Frenchie is a gentle giant?”
“He is.”
“He sure looked foreboding to me. I could almost feel sorry for those men.” Her words grew hard. “Almost, but not quite.” She hadn’t forgotten that they would have killed Gil if he hadn’t outsmarted them.
Gil squeezed her hand gently. “Don’t be wasting your thoughts on them.”
“I won’t.” They reached the smaller camp where the passengers gathered.
Gil dropped her hand. “I’ll see you later.” He went in the direction the men had taken the animals. Her gaze followed him until he disappeared from view. Then she joined the other women in preparing food for tonight and for the noon meal tomorrow.
“I promised Gil an apple pie,” she announced.
Three women straightened to regard her. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t helped with the meals since the beginning of the journey so they needn’t look so surprised.
Then she realized why they had reacted that way. They cooked for the entire crew—her brothers, the Clark sisters though one was now Mrs. Russell, and the Sheptons. Usually Polly and her uncle Sam, joined them. But Judith hadn’t said she would make pie for everyone. She’d only mentioned Gil.
Mrs. Shepton recovered first. “Pie sounds delightful.”
Judith set dry apples to soak while she prepared pie crust using the flour and lard they had in their supplies. Sugar was limited but she sweetened the apples enough to make them passable and filled the crusts. She made enough for two Dutch ovens so everyone could enjoy the desser
t and she covered the cast iron pots with hot coals to bake.
As the women worked, they questioned Judith about her absence.
Did she find it lonely?
She let them believe she did although she’d quite enjoyed Gil’s company and sharing Anna’s care.
Had they had enough food?
They would have had to ask for more of the basics if their isolation had gone on much longer.
Did Anna seem to be adjusting to her situation as an orphan with new parents?
Judith gladly told them of how Anna had started to call them mama and papa.
How did she like married life?
Rather than answer, she asked Donna Grace about the baby. “How is she doing?”
Ten-year-old Polly joined them as Donna Grace explained how happy she was that the baby had decided to sleep four hours at a stretch during the night.
“Can I play with Anna?” Polly asked.
Hearing her name, Anna looked at the older girl, seemed to take measure of her then offered her a rock she had clutched in her hand.
“I’ll make sure she doesn’t wander away,” Polly, said and the two of them began to search for rocks.
Judith smiled as she watched them. “It will be good for Anna to have company.”
Mary Mae joined her in watching the girls. “It will be good for Polly too. Poor child gets lonely.”
They left the girls to play and turned back to meal preparation. The others talked as they worked. Judith mostly listened, wondering how long it would be before Gil returned.
She heard the voices of her brothers and strained for a sound of Gil. Sam, Polly’s uncle, followed the other men. He checked to see where Polly was before he sat down.
Gil came around the wheel of the nearest wagon. “Do I smell apple pie?” he asked.
Mary Mae answered. “Judith said she’d promised to make you one. Don’t worry,” she said to the other men. “She made enough for us all.”
Warren and Luke nudged each other and chuckled.
Judith’s cheeks grew hot and she kept her attention on the food preparation lest anyone notice. She knew the minute Gil slipped closer to the fire to warm his hands. When she stole a glance at him, she saw he watched her. His smile was a secret between the two of them, and his eyes told her he was pleased to know he’d get his apple pie.
Reverend Shepton stood to ask the blessing. His words of thanks for the health of Judith, Gil and Anna and their return to the wagon train warmed Judith’s insides.
She helped serve the food around the circle. Anna sat at Gil’s feet waiting to be fed. An open spot next to Gil seemed to be for her so she sat at his side.
He shifted slightly so their arms brushed.
If anyone else noticed Judith thought it nice of them not to mention it.
The conversation focused on general things—the weather that had a cold sting to it especially at night, the fate of the two prisoners though because of Polly’s keen interest that subject was quickly abandoned, and then talk turned to plans for the future.
Now that Luke and Donna Grace were married and had a baby, Luke didn’t plan to be on the trail any longer. He’d sell this bunch of goods and as soon as it was safe to travel over the mountains, head for California.
“We’ll settle down and have a nice home,” he said, putting his arm about Donna Grace and smiling at her so adoringly that Judith had to look away.
It was what she wanted. Had always wanted. She thought she’d lost the possibility when Frank died. Now she’d been offered another opportunity for it. But could she accept it without finishing the task that sent her on the trail?
She realized the plates were clean and expectant faces turned toward her. “Who wants pie?” She jumped up to serve portions to everyone, glad of a distraction from the direction her thoughts had gone.
Gil made appreciative sounds as he tasted the pie. “Can’t remember having better,” he said.
The others also thanked her for the dessert.
She felt Luke’s gaze on her. What did he have in mind that he wore a teasing grin? She met her brother’s eyes with a silent challenge.
He grinned wider as if to inform her he meant to ignore her warning. “As long as I can remember, Judith liked to play house. She followed Ma around begging to help with everything. I think she baked her first pie—pumpkin, if I remember—when she was about eight. Isn’t that right, Warren?”
Warren chuckled. “Remember how we teased her that she must have put salt in instead of sugar?”
Judith gave her brothers a dismissive wave. “You were so immature.”
The others laughed.
Gil leaned closer to whisper. “Now I understand why you are so patient.”
That brought a burst of disbelieving laugh from her brothers. Luke waved a finger at Gil. “She’s just on her best behavior. Wait until you make her angry.” He gave an exaggerated shudder.
Warren looked thoughtful. “I’d forgotten how she liked to play house. Remember the doll house we made for her when she broke her leg?”
“Pa made it. You two only helped.”
Polly leaned forward, wanting to speak.
Judith turned to her. “What is it?”
“You broke your leg?”
“I did and my papa made me a doll house to help pass the time.” She met first Warren’s and then Luke’s gaze, as the three shared the sadness of that event.
Gil squeezed her hand, offering his sympathy.
Polly wanted to say more so Judith turned to her.
“A big doll house?” Polly asked.
“It was about this tall.” Judith held her hands about three feet from the ground. “It had three bedrooms in the top and on the bottom floor, it had a kitchen, a living room and an entry way. I played with it for years.” She grew thoughtful. “I expect Ma still has it stored away somewhere.”
“Did you have dolls that fit?” Polly could barely sit still in her eagerness to hear all about Judith’s doll house.
“I had paper dolls. Lots and lots of them. There were baby ones, boys and girls, a mama and a papa and a set of grandparents.”
Polly sighed. “That would have been so much fun.”
Sam pulled Polly to his lap. “I’m sorry you don’t have dolls and doll houses to play with. Maybe someday we’ll settle down and have a real house and you can have your own dollhouse.”
Polly patted her uncle’s cheeks. “It’s okay, Uncle. I would sooner be with you. It’s fun being on the trail.”
Judith gripped Gil’s hand. Polly might be happy enough with the life she shared with her uncle, but she deserved more. Just as Gil wanted more for Anna than a life of constant travel.
The pie was gone, the coffee pot drained. The men left to tend to chores and the women gathered up the dirty dishes. Judith washed. Mary Mae dried. Mrs. Shepton put beans to cook and Donna Grace fed the baby then mixed up biscuits for the noon meal tomorrow. Anna played with Polly.
Judith looked about. It might not be a house with rooms and windows, but she couldn’t ask for a better family. It really wasn’t so bad to be on the trail.
She finished the washing up and saw Gil lounging against a wagon wheel. He straightened. “Would you ladies be so kind as to take care of Anna? I promised Judith I’d show her the buttes.”
“Anna will be fine,” Mrs. Shepton said.
Judith ignored the knowing looks Donna Grace and her sister shared, but knew her hot cheeks would have shouted her embarrassment if anyone had cared to take note.
“I’ll need a shawl.” The evenings were cold enough to make a warm wrap and a hot fire welcome. She went to the back of the wagon where all her things had been transferred and got her shawl.
Gil waited and pulled her arm through his. “To make sure you don’t stumble,” he said when she gave him a questioning look. Not that she minded. In fact, she might like it a bit too much, but even so, she didn’t withdraw. After all, she didn’t want to fall on the rough ground and risk hurting herself.
Indeed, she better hang on a little more firmly.
They left the circle of the wagons and crossed the prairie toward the buttes. The sun had dipped toward the west, throwing long shadows across the land. Her shadow and Gil’s were tall and spindly and she laughed as she pointed it out.
Gil chuckled and waved his hat at his shadow.
It might be silly play, Judith thought, but it didn’t hurt to be a little lighthearted.
The sound of Frenchie scolding the prisoners followed them and then the mournful notes of the harmonica came. A happy song soon replaced the sad one and she knew if she turned around she would see at least two of the teamsters dancing a jig.
“Why does the harmonica player always start out with a sad tune?” she asked Gil.
“Pete. He says one must acknowledge both sides of music. He says to play only happy tunes is to invite a reason for sadness so he gives honor to the possibility of sadness in the hopes of keeping it at bay.”
The ground began to rise before them and he let her arm drop in order to take her hand and lead her up the slope. They found a path through the bushes. She pulled on his hand to slow him. “Let me see if there is any fruit.” She examined the bushes and found only dried up berries.
“Too bad. It would be nice to have fresh fruit.”
“They say California has all sorts of fruit. Like the garden of Eden.”
“Good. Luke and Donna Grace will do well out there.” She guessed Gil had more in mind than her brother and his wife, but they had agreed not to discuss that topic until they reached the end of the trail.
They continued on their way, the angle of the hill increasing. She was grateful for Gil’s help.
And then they reached the crest and looked down on the landscape. The canvas on the circled wagons looked like white sails. No wonder they called them prairie schooners. Far to the east she saw a brown mass.
“What’s that?”
“Buffalo.”
She gasped. “There must be hundreds of them.” She watched the distant animals for a few minutes then continued her examination of the land before them. In the distance she saw the reflection of water. The sun slowly made its way toward the horizon and as they stood there, gold, orange and red banners filled the sky. “It’s beautiful.” She’d seen lots of sunsets, and as many sunrises since they’d set out but this one was different. Where they stood gave them a wide view.
