by Al Lacy
Eager to meet the young farmer from the Bowling Green area, Rya rushed back toward the central fire. The two men were still talking as she drew up, but she stood near, waiting until their conversation was over so she could make a polite approach. The one from the Bowling Green area had coal black hair and his back was still toward her.
Some two or three minutes later, the two men rose to their feet. The dark-haired one said, “Well, Charlie, it’s been nice talking to you. We’ll have to spend some more time together.”
“Let’s do that,” said Charlie. “Good night.”
“Good night.”
As Charlie walked away, Rya stepped up to the dark-haired young man, who caught her movement in the corner of his eye, and turned to look at her. “Hello,” he said, smiling.
Now that she could see him clearly, there was something familiar about him. “Excuse me, sir,” said Rya. “I was passing by a moment ago, and I heard you tell that other gentleman that you’re from Bowling Green, Virginia.”
“Yes. I was born and raised on a farm a couple of miles outside of Bowling Green. Are you from—”
“McClain!” gasped Rya, cutting off his words. “McClain! Is … is it you?”
McClain Reardon’s eyes widened. “Yes, but do I know you?”
Rya clamped her hands over her mouth, her eyes misting.
McClain squinted and bent his head to one side, studying her. “I’ve seen you teaching the children, but—R-Rya? Little Rya Garrett? It can’t be!”
Suddenly, without hesitation, they were embracing.
“Oh, McClain!” Rya said as he held her tight. “I thought I would never see you again on this earth. It’s been such a long time!”
“How long has it been, Rya? Twelve … thirteen—no! It was 1865! Fourteen years!”
“Yes,” she said as he released her, and they looked at each other. “Fourteen years, McClain. When you moved away, you were thirteen, and I was ten.”
He took hold of her shoulders and turned her toward the firelight to get a better view. Her soft eyes were like the azure reaches of the sky.
Rya could only smile at him.
Licking his lips, he said, “How about your family? Is everybody doing all right?”
“Mm-hmm. Jack, Ella, and Saul are married. They and their mates and children live in different parts of Virginia. Mama and Papa still have the farm. They’re doing fine.”
“Good. You’ll have to tell me more about all of them later.”
“Sure. And how about your mother, and Lena and Ruby?”
“They still live in Blue Springs. Mom has never remarried, but both the girls are married now. I was just there to visit them.”
“So you live elsewhere.”
“Well, yes, but it’s too long a story to tell you right now. I want to know what you’re doing in this wagon train, and you’ll be asking why I am. But since it’s getting late and Chet wants us up at dawn, we’ll have to get together soon and talk.”
“Well, tomorrow evening there’s no class. We can talk then.”
“All right. We’ll do it.” He grinned and shook his head.
“What?”
“Rya, I’ve glanced at the wagon train’s teacher several times, but I had no idea it was you.”
She smiled. “Well, it’s been fourteen years.”
“Yes. You’re riding in the Keegan wagon, aren’t you?”
Rya giggled. “Well, I guess you did glance at me sometime, since you know that.”
He grinned sheepishly. “I’ll walk you over there.”
“Have you met the Keegans?” she asked.
“No. I haven’t had that privilege.”
“Well, let’s take care of that right now.”
When they reached the Keegan wagon, Burt and Dorothy were at the tailgate. They glanced at McClain, then set their eyes on Rya.
“Burt and Dorothy Keegan,” said Rya, “I want you to meet McClain Reardon. McClain and I grew up in the same farming community in Virginia and just recognized each other a few minutes ago.”
As McClain shook hands with Burt and tipped his hat at Dorothy, Rya said, “McClain was my older brother’s best friend all through childhood. He and I became very good friends, too. We haven’t seen each other since 1865.”
Burt chuckled. “I guess you two have a lot of catching up to do.”
“We sure do,” said McClain. “But not tonight. Glad to have met you folks. Rya, we’ll get together tomorrow evening right after supper.”
“All right,” she said softly. “What a wonderful surprise, McClain. It’s so nice to see you again.”
“You, too, Rya. Good night. And good night to you, Mr. and Mrs. Keegan.”
With that, he turned and walked away.
“Pretty warm tonight, Rya,” said Burt. “I’m pinning the flaps open so if we get a breeze across these plains, it can find its way inside. We’ll sleep better that way.”
Rya’s attention was on McClain as he crossed the open area toward the other side of the circle. Without taking her eyes off him, she said, “That’ll be nice, Burt.”
Dorothy smiled to herself as she observed Rya watching McClain.
Later that night as Rya lay in her cramped bed next to the tailgate inside the Keegan wagon, sleep eluded her. The soft, even breathing of both Burt and Dorothy deeper in the wagon bed told her they were fast asleep. She closed her eyes and listened to the crickets giving their nocturnal concert. There was no breeze so far, but it wasn’t the heat that was keeping her awake.
Rya raised her head, fluffed the pillow, and turned onto her back. She gazed up at the great canopy of stars twinkling in the Nebraska sky. Her mind went back over the events of the evening.
“I can hardly believe he’s here,” she said to herself. “What a coincidence, that after so many years we would run into each other like this.”
A night owl hooted somewhere in the distance.
Now, wait a minute, Rya, she thought. With God nothing is coincidental. He has a plan for every Christian’s life. It is no accident that you and McClain are together in this wagon train.
Lord, she prayed, her eyes fixed on the heavens, You know as a young girl I had such admiration for McClain. Especially after that John Wilkes Booth incident. And … and You remember, Lord, how I was crushed so deeply when he and his family moved away. Lord, You knew McClain would be in this wagon train. Is he to be a part of my new life?
With this thought, Rya’s heart skittered and she emitted a long, shuddering breath.
“Could it be, Lord? Could it possibly be?”
Suddenly she realized she had spoken aloud. Dorothy roused, whispering, “Are you all right, Rya?”
“Oh, Dorothy, I’m sorry I woke you. I … I guess I’m just a little restless tonight. The air is so hot and still.”
Dorothy’s reply in the darkness came with a smile in her voice. “Honey, are you sure it’s the temperature? Or could it possibly be that handsome young McClain Reardon’s presence in the wagon train?”
A small sigh escaped Rya’s lips. “Well-l-l-l … it … ah … it might be.”
“Mmm. Well, whatever it is, dear, I suggest you put it to rest and get some sleep. Morning will be on us shortly, and we’ll have another hot, tiring day.”
As she was trying to let sleep overtake her, Rya thought of what she had said to the Lord only moments ago about McClain becoming a part of her new life. Girl she admonished herself in her thoughts, how foolish can you be? You’re going to Sacramento to start your new life. McClain no doubt lives hundreds of miles from there … maybe thousands.
Dont let yourself cling to something that will only let you down hard and break your heart. Enjoy the time you will have with your old friend on this journey, and let the Lord guide your life. You know He has led you to accept that teaching job in Sacramento. Keep that firmly in mind.
McClain Reardon was traveling in a covered wagon owned by a middle-aged couple named Vance and Rhonda Larkin from Oak Park, Illinois. Each night
since leaving Independence, McClain had slept on the ground in his bedroll beside the wagon in order to give the Larkins more room for sleeping inside.
Since McClain had first been assigned to Fort Steele in Wyoming, he had fallen in love with the West. And now that he was headed that direction again, he felt the sweet satisfaction that nights on the prairie could give.
Lying on his back in the darkness, he enjoyed the strange silence that stretched away under blinking white stars. However, he found it difficult to fall asleep.
A face haunted him. A young woman’s face. Whether he closed his eyes or left them open, Rya’s features hovered in his mind.
“Where are you headed, Rya?” he whispered. “Why have you left your home in Virginia? Is this some new chapter in your life? Oh, sweet Rya.”
13
THE NEXT MORNING, RYA GARRETT sat on the wagon seat with Burt and Dorothy Keegan as the wagons broke the circle behind the mounted Chet Place and headed northwest across the prairie. The long green grass tossed about in the morning breeze like waves of the sea, highlighted with bright-colored wildflowers in the golden sunlight.
Some of the men in the wagon train walked alongside their wagons while their wives or teenage sons handled the teams. Others rode saddle horses, sometimes trotting up and down the line to chat with the occupants of other wagons, but most of the time they stayed close to their own families.
The day passed slowly for Rya, but finally, as the sun was setting red in the west, the wagon master gave signal for the wagons to make a circle on the bank of the Little Blue River. Riding along the line as the circle began to form, Place announced that they were only about two miles from a small town called Endicott. If anyone needed supplies, they were to let him know as soon as the wagons were parked. He and Ken would be taking the lead wagon into town for supplies before supper.
Rya had written a brief letter to her parents before breakfast that morning, telling them about McClain being in the wagon train and explaining that she would fill them in on more later. She had no idea she would get to mail it so soon.
When Burt hauled the team to a halt, she climbed into the back of the wagon and hastily addressed an envelope. She hurried to the lead wagon and handed the letter to Ken Place, asking him to post it for her in Endicott.
She was returning to the Keegan wagon when she saw McClain coming toward her. There was a fluttering in her heart as she smiled and hurried to him.
“Hello, lovely lady,” McClain said, his eyes sparkling. “The people I’m riding with have heard me talking about you all day, and they’d like to meet you.”
Rya’s face tinted. “McClain, you embarrass me.”
“Just because I’m proud to have known you since we were children, and I’ve bragged about it?”
“Well, I’m flattered that you feel that way, but—”
“Can you spare a few minutes to come and let me introduce you to them right now?”
“Well, I guess so.” She turned to the Keegans, explained that she would be back to help Dorothy cook supper in a few minutes, and let McClain usher her across the circle.
As they moved along, he said, “You’ll love these people, Rya. They are both wonderful, dedicated Christians.”
“Great! I wish the Keegans were Christians, but when I bring up the Lord and quote things from the Bible, they find a way to change the subject. Nice people but cold toward the Lord and His Word.”
“There are a lot of those kind of people in the world, Rya. Nice folks, but lost. I’ll remember the Keegans in my prayers.”
“Please do. I’m doing the same, and I’ll keep trying to talk to them about the Lord.”
When they reached the Larkin wagon, Rya found a warm welcome. She felt an instant kinship with the Larkins, and what few moments she had with them, found the fellowship sweet.
As McClain was walking Rya back toward the Keegan wagon, they met up with Bobby Jensen, who flashed a smile at his teacher. “Hello, Miss Rya. I see you and Mr. Reardon have become acquainted.”
Rya looked up into McClain’s face, then back at Bobby. “Well, actually, we have known each other since we were children. We were both born and raised on neighboring farms in Virginia. Mr. Reardon was thirteen when he and his family moved to Missouri in 1865. We haven’t seen each other since then.”
“Wow!” said the boy, eyes wide. “So you must’ve been surprised when you saw each other.”
McClain chuckled. “Well, Bobby, it took us a few minutes to recognize one another, but when we did, it sure was a pleasant surprise.”
“That’s really neat. You must have a lot to talk about.”
“We sure do,” said McClain, glancing at Rya. “We sure do.”
Bobby set admiring eyes on his teacher. “I’m really gonna miss having class tonight, Miss Rya. I really like the way you teach. Some of the other kids have told me that, too.”
A smile spread over Rya’s face. “I’m glad to hear that, Bobby.”
“Well, I gotta get to the wagon,” said the boy. “See you both later.”
At supper, Rya sat beside the Keegan wagon at the small folding table with Burt and Dorothy, trying valiantly to eat the meal that she and Dorothy had prepared. A slight breeze had picked up, and was cooling the air. A few thunderheads could be seen on the northern horizon, gaining in size.
“That breeze sure feels good,” commented Burt. “We just might get some rain.”
“I hope so,” said Dorothy.
“A nice rain would be great,” Rya said, laying her fork down. Her stomach was so full of butterflies at the prospect of spending the evening with McClain that there was little room for food. She cleared her throat gently. “Would you … ah … excuse me, please? I need to go freshen up a bit.”
“Of course, dear,” said Dorothy. “You go ahead.”
Looking perplexed as Rya hurried away, Burt frowned. “Dottie, is something wrong with our little gal?”
Dorothy grinned. “Oh, nothing that an evening with McClain Reardon can’t fix.”
Burt grinned. “Oh, so that’s it. Their little date tonight.” His grin broadened. “Well, as I think back on our courting days, I was the same way. All jittery and no appetite.”
“Why, you ol’ sweetheart,” Dorothy said, reaching across the table and squeezing his hand. “It kind of seems like yesterday, doesn’t it?”
Rising to his feet, Burt bent over and kissed her brow. “Guess I’d better tend to the horses.”
After helping Dorothy wash and dry the dishes, Rya leaned against the wagon and waited for McClain. The cool breeze felt good. A glance to the north showed her a growing mass of dark clouds. The rest of the sky was clear.
When she looked back amid the wagons, her heart skipped a beat. McClain was weaving his way toward her through the milling people, a wide smile on his face.
She rushed to him, eyes aglow.
As they met, McClain said, “How about a little stroll along the river?”
“Oh, that would be nice.”
He took hold of her arm and they walked outside the circle of wagons to the bank of the Little Blue. The sun had dropped beneath the western horizon, leaving its golden radiance on the prairie.
For a few minutes, they strolled quietly along the bank, each deep in their own thoughts. When they came to a fallen tree, McClain said, “How about we sit down?”
“All right.” As McClain took her hand and helped her sit down, Rya willed her wildly beating heart to slow its pace.
The gurgling sound of the river and the reflection of the sunset on its rippling surface added to the beauty of the moment as McClain sat down beside Rya and they looked at each other.
“Well,” he said softly, “tell me first about my ol’ pal, Saul. What’s he doing? Who did he marry, and how many children do they have?”
When Rya had answered his questions about Saul, he then wanted to know all about what had happened in her life in the past fourteen years.
Rya filled him in on the early year
s after he moved to Missouri, then told him about her college days and having earned her degree in education.
“So that’s why Chet is having you teach the children on this journey,” said McClain.
“Uh-huh. And I’m enjoying it very much.” She paused. “You see, McClain, I’m on my way to Sacramento. I’ve been hired to teach at Sacramento High School.”
McClain jerked. A strange expression flitted across his face.
Rya frowned. “What’s wrong?”
Shaking his head while a grin captured his mouth, he said, “Rya, you’re not going to believe this.”
“What?”
He laughed gaily. “Before I tell you, let me give you some background on myself since we last saw each other. You see, I’ve been in the army for the past several years.”
Rya’s eyebrows arched. “The army?”
“Yes. Let me tell you about it.”
Rya listened intently as McClain told her about his years in the army—both at Fort Larned and Fort Steele—then said, “I’m out of the army now. I was honorably discharged two months ago.”
“Oh. So what are you doing now?”
He chuckled. “Most of my time at Fort Steele, the commandant was a wonderful Christian man, Colonel Ward Lamont. A couple of years ago, he retired from the army at forty-nine years of age to go to California, where he took over his older brother’s construction business. The Lamont family has been in the construction business for over forty years. Colonel Lamont’s father started it in the Chicago area when he was a young man. I still call him ‘Colonel,’ although he told me to call him Ward. Anyway, Ward was brought up in the construction business, as was his older brother, Warren, who is now retired. Warren had moved to California as a young man and established his own company.
“This is the one Ward has taken over. And here’s what’s happening: Colonel—I mean, Ward—and I grew very close during those years at Fort Steele, and when he made his plans to retire and take over Warren’s business, he sat me down and made me an offer. He said if I would muster out of the army in a couple of years, he would give me a good-paying job and teach me the construction business.”
