He held her hands tightly, total seriousness in his eyes. “I meant what I said about wanting to court you. I stayed away the past few days till we got here because I wanted to make sure people understood we weren’t up to anything improper.”
He suddenly broke into a grin so handsome that it disturbed Clarissa in very improper ways. He gripped her about the waist then, lifting her down as though she weighed nothing. Clarissa was amazed at his good mood, probably from being in such familiar surroundings.
“I have arranged for a dance to be held here tomorrow,” he told her, “from late afternoon until however late people want it to continue. The fort will provide food and music. They even have a portable wooden dance floor they can set up for us, something they often do for wagon trains or visits from generals and senators and the like. So, go take a bath and fix yourself up, and tomorrow put on your prettiest dress, because you will be dancing every dance with me.”
This was too wonderful, and happening too fast. Her trip to settle on her own was not supposed to include meeting a man and falling in love with him.
“What if I would rather dance with Eric Buettner or Bert Krueger?”
He frowned. “Would you?”
His grand stature made her feel very small. Could she truly trust such a big, strong man about whom she still knew so little? “No, but I don’t want either of us to—I don’t know, be interested in each other for all the wrong reasons.” She met his eyes again; they were so very blue. “I don’t want you thinking I need a man to survive, or feeling sorry for me because of what my husband did.”
He answered in all seriousness. “I don’t for a minute think either of those things. You’re a strong, determined woman who will do just fine all alone if that’s how it ends up for you. And it isn’t you I feel sorry for. It’s your ex-husband, who made a grave mistake when he walked out on you and Sophie. And just for your information, I in turn don’t want you allowing a courtship because you feel sorry for me, because of my past. I don’t want your pity any more than you want mine. Agreed?”
She took a deep breath. “Agreed.”
“Good. Get some things together and I’ll escort you to the major general’s house. Bring Lena and Sophie. I’m sure they’d enjoy a bath, too.”
“Dawson!” Sophie and Lena were both running toward him then. Dawson turned his attention to the girls, picking them up, one in each arm. They each kissed a cheek, and Dawson turned back to Clarissa. “I’ll go tell Carolyn about the bath. You get out a clean dress and some soap and a brush for that beautiful red hair. And by the way, your face is filthy, Mrs. Graham.”
He walked away, and Clarissa put her hands to her face, wondering just how dirty it really was. She climbed back into the wagon and dug a dress and underwear and towels out of a trunk. She found a hand mirror and held it up, gasping at how she looked. If Dawson Clements was still interested when he saw her looking like this, there most certainly had to be something genuine to it. She closed her eyes, thinking how kind it was of him to think about arranging baths for her and Carolyn and the girls.
God help me make the right decisions. Show me Thy way, and give me courage and understanding to know when my heart speaks true. Help me learn to love again, if that is what You mean for me, and help me find a way to forgive Chad Graham. Until I can forgive him, I can never give my heart freely to another.
Your lips cover me with kisses;
Your love is better than wine.
There is a fragrance about you;
The sound of your name recalls it.
No woman could keep from loving you.
—The Song of Solomon 1:2-3
Chapter Twenty
June 21, 1863
The army band consisted of two fiddles, one guitar, a trumpet and a drummer. Together they managed to play waltzes surprisingly well, and for a change of pace, they called out a lively square dance, a sergeant shouting moves that kept the emigrants skipping and turning and changing partners so swiftly that they sometimes got confused, ending in uproarious laughter.
Not far away, a side of beef, turned on a spit by two more soldiers, roasted over a pit of hot coals, and nearby a table sat loaded with sweet potatoes, boiled regular potatoes, bread, a ham and even berry pies, some made by the army cooks, most of the pies by the few soldiers’ wives who lived at the fort. Clarissa had not felt so beautiful or enjoyed herself so much since before giving birth to Sophie. It was after that that Chad had seemed to lose interest in her and had begun turning away from her in the night.
Now here was Dawson, who kept one hand firmly at her waist, held her other hand and whirled her around the makeshift dance floor more adeptly than she’d expected. He looked wonderful in black dress pants, high black boots, a white shirt, black vest and black string tie. It was obvious he’d had the army’s barber give him a shave and a haircut, and now his thick, dark hair was slicked back neatly and had a slight curl to it where it met the collar of his shirt.
This was the first time Clarissa saw him for how truly handsome he was, and the way he looked at her made her feel beautiful in this dress she’d brought with her, a pale green velvet that was fitted at the waist. The front buttons of the bodice were hidden under white lace that decorated the scooped neckline and the edges of the puffed sleeves.
Now Dawson turned her to another waltz, and when she rested her left hand on his right arm she could feel the hard muscle beneath his shirtsleeve. Everything about the man spelled safety and security, but so had Chad when he’d consoled and comforted her after her father’s death.
“Have I told you how beautiful you look?” Dawson asked, drawing her away from negative thoughts. “Yes,” she answered with a light laugh, meeting his eyes. “And you have never looked more handsome.”
He actually looked embarrassed. “If you say so.” He glanced away from her. “Looks like Sophie and Lena are having fun.”
Clarissa looked to see the girls dancing together and giggling. “Thank you for arranging this,” she told Dawson. “It’s a wonderful break for everyone.”
Their gazes met again. “You all deserve it,” Dawson told her. “We have a long way to go yet.”
“What are they telling you about the Indians?” Clarissa asked.
Obvious concern filled Dawson’s eyes. “The Cheyenne are causing a lot of problems south of here and around Denver. Up north the Sioux are causing havoc along the Bozeman road that leads to western Montana. That’s where men are starting to dig for gold. Right now we’re between the two, but we’ll have to be vigilant. We’ll probably have bigger problems the closer we get to Montana.”
“I have to wonder if we made the wrong decision. The Indian problems frighten me.”
“As soon as the war is over a lot of soldiers will be sent back west and things will be safer. Meantime, it might be best at first for you to claim your land and then settle closer to a town where there is safety in numbers.”
He’d said “you,” not “we.” Clarissa couldn’t help being a bit confused over what this man’s intentions really were. As though he’d read her mind, Dawson stopped dancing and led her off the wooden platform.
“Let’s go someplace where we can talk.” They walked past the others to the long porch of the barracks building and a wooden bench there. “Sit down, Clare,” he told her.
Clarissa obeyed, not sure what to expect or even sure what she wanted to hear him say. He sat down beside her, and in the distance they could see Carolyn and Michael dancing together awkwardly. “They make a rather comical couple, don’t they?” Dawson said. “With Carolyn taller and even a little broader than Michael.”
Clarissa laughed lightly. “They certainly do, but they are very happy together. Two people of strong faith and convictions. Carolyn used to watch Sophie for me whenever I needed to help at the store, and after my divorce, she and Michael became my most loyal friends. They even pulled out of the Light of Christ Church when some of the women and deacons there nearly shunned me from church activities, as tho
ugh I’d committed some terrible sin. That’s when Michael started his own church. He and Carolyn are the most forgiving and nonjudgmental people I have ever met.”
Dawson leaned back, moving an arm across the bench behind Clarissa and putting one foot up on his knee. “Too bad that isn’t the kind of family I ended up with after my parents died in that fire.”
Clarissa turned and faced him, afraid to lean back, afraid his arm might come around her, afraid of how good that might feel. “It must have been awful for you, being so young and thinking it was all your fault, and then living with that—that horrible man who raised you. He was not a man of God at all, Dawson. I hope you realize that. The lessons he beat into you about God and forgiveness were all wrong. Just look at Sophie. What if she accidentally caused my death? Do you honestly think that beautiful little girl should be held accountable and called evil and full of sin?”
He sighed, watching Lena and Sophie. “Of course not,” he said quietly.
“And neither are you evil and full of sin. It’s time to forgive yourself, Dawson.”
He closed his eyes. “I should have run to them and got them up, but I ran out instead.”
“You were a terrified little boy. Your first instinct to run was natural, and at that age you had no idea how fast a fire can spread. You’ve grown into a good man, a man who can surely think reasonably, who can watch other children and realize you did nothing wrong. God sees the goodness in you, too.”
“I just don’t understand why God had to let it all happen.”
“It’s not our place to question God’s ways, Dawson, and God might not have had anything to do with it. Satan can sometimes use evil ways to win a soul away from God. Believe me, I’ve questioned God plenty of times myself the past several months. Now I realize that I never should have married Chad Graham in the first place. He would never have been a truly good father and he was never a good husband. I was in mourning for my father when Chad turned on the charm, professing his love and convincing me we should get married so he could take care of me.” She turned away. “I was so young and vulnerable, and such a fool.”
They both sat quietly for a few seconds, digesting each other’s words. Dawson leaned back again. “And that’s why you’re so afraid to fall in love or marry again,” he said matter-of-factly. “You hate the fact that he took advantage of you and convinced you you needed taking care of. You hate the thought of marrying again for that reason. You’re bound and determined to take care of yourself and never depend on or trust a man again.”
Clarissa remained sitting straight and rigid. “You understand people better than one would think,” she answered. Finally she met his eyes again. “And you in turn are afraid to love for fear of that love slipping out of your grasp, like with your parents, and the man who sent you to school but then was killed, and the wife who died and took your baby with her, and the young man who befriended you and then was killed. You’ve never known true love and friendship since your parents died, have you, Dawson? Not only that, you’ve always believed you don’t even deserve to love and be loved. You’re so unsure of your worthiness, and yet you’re the most worthy, deserving, capable man I’ve ever met.”
He held her gaze. “We both have a lot of obstacles to overcome, don’t we?”
“Maybe it’s those obstacles that help us understand each other.” She looked away again, afraid he would read the rush of emotions she was feeling. “Maybe we could…help each other. I can help you learn to forgive yourself, and you could—” Was she really saying this? “You could help me learn to forgive Chad Graham by showing me that a man can love completely and can be trusted.”
There came another moment of silence, then Clarissa heard him sigh deeply. “You sure know how to put things in perspective,” he told her. His strong, sure hand came over hers. “Look at me, Clare.”
She felt herself literally tremble as she turned to face him.
“I think I’m falling in love with you,” he told her flat-out. “And that scares me. All I know is the army life. When I first decided to head for Montana, it was just a lonely man who didn’t know what to do next with his life. I have no idea if I can even provide for you and Sophie like a husband and father should. All I want for now is for you to know how I’m feeling, and to be patient with me while I figure out if I can do this right—be a husband and father, I mean.
“And I know you need time to sort out your own feelings. But believe me when I say that I’m not after something you own or playing on your vulnerability or thinking a woman can’t survive without a man. I have no doubt what a strong, able woman you are. This isn’t because I think you need me, Clare Graham. It’s more that—I think I need you. You make me laugh. You make me feel confident and worthy. You make me see that I need to do something with my life beyond riding a horse and positioning cannons and shooting Indians.
“One thing I remember about my parents is that they were happy together. Before the fire I had a loving family and a good life. I want that again. I’m asking you to think hard about all this, because when we reach Montana, we need to decide, together, whether I should stay, or ride out of your life.”
Clarissa swallowed, searching for her voice. “I—don’t know what to say. I’m afraid to love again, but when I’m with you something happens inside of me that makes me hate it when you don’t come around. But it scares me to death to think it could be love. After what happened with Chad, I’m not even sure how love is supposed to feel. I thought I loved Chad, but now I know it wasn’t love at all.”
“I didn’t ask you to say you love me, not right now. I’m just asking you to think about maybe—maybe marrying me when we reach Montana, but to have patience during the times I seem to be staying away from you. It’s partly to save your honor, and partly because I’ve never had such a time wrestling with my feelings before. I’ve never cared before about what lies ahead in my future. Now I care. I see you in my future, but I’m scared that somehow I’ll let you down or be responsible for something happening to you.”
Clarissa searched his troubled eyes. “That’s where faith comes in, Dawson. If God means for this to be, He’ll show both of us the way.”
He lifted her hand, and kissed her palm. She yearned to hold him, but all the doubts Chad Graham had instilled in her kept her in check. What if she did give her heart to this man, and then he realized he wasn’t made to live a normal family life and ran off to rejoin the army, or decided to go look for gold?
Still, she could not bring herself to pull back when he came closer. In the next moment his lips covered hers in a warm kiss that lingered, but when he began to press her close, she turned her face so that his warm breath was on her cheek.
“I can’t yet,” she said in a near whisper. “I don’t want to let love be nothing more than need and want.” She lowered her head and turned away. “We both have to be sure it’s not just those things bringing us together. It has to be something much deeper than that. And we have a long way to go yet. So many things could happen.”
He didn’t reply right away, but finally he moved an arm around her. She hated admitting how good it would feel to lean on someone strong, to feel those arms wrapped around her.
“I understand,” he told her. “Just knowing you have deep feelings for me is enough for now. Promise me you will give serious thought to the things I’ve told you.”
She nodded. “You know I will. Thank you for being so honest about your feelings. And I hope—” Finally she faced him again. She still felt his kiss on her lips. “I hope you will pray about it as I will. You need God in your life and your heart, Dawson. Let God take away all the anger and show you His love. That is when you will know what is right, and will be totally free to love wholly and completely.”
He rose, giving no reply to the remark, and she realized he still had tremendous reservations about God. The preacher who’d raised him had all but destroyed his trust in a forgiving Lord.
“We’d better get back to the others,” he to
ld her, now grinning again, “before they start gossiping about us.” He put a hand to her waist, then leaned down and kissed her cheek, whispering “thank you” in her ear.
They walked back to the gathering, and found that the soldiers were serving food to the emigrants, some of whom turned and stared at Clarissa and Dawson. Dawson immediately left her side and began talking with the soldiers. He left with some of them, and Clarissa did not see him for the rest of the night.
Chapter Twenty-One
June 28, 1863
Lawyer Burkette has left us, choosing to travel south with a regiment of soldiers headed for Denver. He feels he can do well there, and most of us are glad to be rid of him, because he often caused problems for Mr. Clements.
Clarissa breathed another sigh of relief to have Burkette off the train. He stayed behind when they left Fort Laramie, and no one missed him, although Clarissa felt sorry for his mouse of a wife.
She leaned back against the side of the wagon, keeping a quilt over her knees and writing by lamplight. They were moving into ever-higher country now, and the nights were much cooler.
The trail since leaving the fort is much rougher, and we are not always close to the river, so we now are more careful how much water we use. We climb much higher hills, which slows us down so that we are not making as many miles a day as we did coming through Nebraska. We are moving through what Mr. Clements says is the southern end of the Black Hills, not high enough to call mountains, but certainly high enough to cause great exertion on oxen and people alike. There are thick pines and cedars here. The smell is wonderful, but the journey has become harder.
Dawson seemed to be everywhere, in front of them, behind them, beside them, ever watchful for possible Indian trouble.
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