Trail of Chances- Trail's End

by Merry Farmer

  He turned to face Josephine squarely. “I’m not gonna lie to you,” he began. “I’ve given it a lot of thought.”

  “Oh?” Her gaze flicked up to meet his, and the single word trembled with emotion.

  She was heartbreakingly lovely. A few wrinkles only enhanced the beauty that shone from inside of her. Not just beautiful, she was desirable. All those nights he’d lay awake on the trail, trying in vain to stop his mind from wandering into fantasies of all the things he could do to her if they were well and truly alone came back to him. She’d probably never had a man show her how delightful bed sports could be. Heck, she might not even know how pleasurable her own body could be. He could show her. He could—

  Why on earth was he thinking of such things at a time like that?

  He cleared his throat, pushing the fountain of desire soaring through him down. “I thought about it,” he repeated, “but you have your life with your niece waiting for you in Denver City.”

  “Oh.” This time, the single word held worlds of disappointment instead of worlds of hope.

  “And I don’t know what life has in store for me next. I spent all morning walking around this town looking for a job, and over and over I heard the same thing.”

  “What thing?” Her brow tilted up.

  “That old men need not apply.”

  Josephine’s tremulous, hopeful look dropped to an irritated scowl. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. You’re not an old man, Peter Evans. In fact, you’re a fine man in his prime. Why if it were up to me, I’d—” She ended with a sudden blush.

  For one, blissful moment, it occurred to Pete that she might have a parcel of thoughts as heated as the ones he’d had. But he couldn’t count on that, not when so much was at stake.

  “The Chance kids deserve a home that’s settled and reliable,” he went on. “They deserve better than a man who can’t find work.”

  She stared at him, lips pressed in a flat line. “One morning, Pete. You’ve been searching for one morning. Aren’t you going to give it time?”

  “How much time to I have?” He shrugged. “How soon does your niece expect you in Denver City?”

  “I… Well… I suppose I could delay.”

  “Delay starting the rest of your life? Do you really want to do that?”

  “Who says I can’t?” She crossed her arms, glaring at him.

  It was hardly a picture of a woman in love, and yet Pete’s heart beat faster and his blood pumped harder than ever. Not only did he want to take her in his arms, he wanted to press her against the hotel’s porch railing and kiss her senseless. But lustful thoughts and ideas weren’t going to find a happy home for the Chance children.

  “Josephine, I care about you,” he said, pouring more emotion into the words than he was comfortable with. “I’ve grown to care for you so very much on this trail journey.”

  “And I’ve come to care for you.” She swayed toward him, practically lifting up on her toes.

  “But we’re not young.”

  She swerved back, shoulders dropping. “No, we’re not.”

  “Where are we going to be in ten years, when Freddy and Muriel are just coming of age?”

  “I…I don’t know.”

  “Don’t they deserve parents who are young and vibrant, who can keep up with them?”

  Josephine’s lips pressed tightly, but her eyes argued that the two of them might be able to keep up for a long time to come. In fact, the fire in her eyes was so tempting that he leaned closer to her.

  She smelled of lavender. It wasn’t the scent of the trail. It was the scent of woman and promise, steadiness and the future. Her frustration, even though it was directed at him as much as anything else, was like a hot bun from the oven. He wanted to devour it, devour her. He swayed closer still, reaching to rest a hand against her waist. She tilted her head up to him, pressed so close he could almost feel the curves of her body against his. One small movement and he could slant his mouth over hers, drink kisses from her lips like he had longed to do for months.

  And then where would they be? Hot and bothered and still without the things that children needed to get the best start in life.

  He sighed and stepped back, breaking away from her. “We’ve got to play the hand we’ve been dealt.”

  A frustrated, muffled growl sounded from nearby. Both Pete and Josephine turned to the window of the hotel. Libby was just on the other side, only a few yards away. She appeared to be stomping her foot and clenching her jaw and fists as she grumbled. As soon as she saw she’d been caught, she shook her head and gave both of them the stink-eye before whirling away from the window and disappearing deeper into the hotel.

  When Pete turned back to Josephine, her arms were crossed and her brow was dark with pent-up anger. “Do you think she has a point?” she snapped.

  “She’s young. She doesn’t understand.”

  “Well, Pete,” Josephine sighed. “I’m beginning to think that I don’t understand either.”

  With that, she turned and marched away.

  Chapter Six

  B y the next morning, Pete was of a mind that the only good thing about having a full day of errands ahead of him was that it stopped him from thinking about troubles that were getting him nowhere.

  “Careful, that one’s heavier than the others.” Charlie took a step toward Pete as he leaned in to tug one of Charlie and Olivia’s trunks from the back of the wagon. They’d all driven from the hotel to the train station bright and early to make sure that Charlie and Olivia caught their train to San Francisco in time.

  “I got it,” Pete ground out, hefting the trunk into his arms. It was heavier than he anticipated. The porter at the hotel had loaded it, and now Pete knew why. “Land sakes, Charlie, what’ve you got in here?”

  Charlie grinned, crossing his arms. “’Land sakes.’ Isn’t that something Josephine likes to say?”

  Pete narrowed his eyes, then thrust the heavy trunk at Charlie. With a burst of chuckling, Charlie managed to catch it.

  “Careful. Olivia’s wedding present is in there,” Charlie laughed.

  “Did one of you say my name?” Josephine popped her head around the back of the wagon. Olivia was right behind her, looking as though she had started shedding tears of parting early.

  “Just a casual mention that Pete has taken to your speech patterns now,” Charlie told her.

  “My what?” Josephine planted one fist on her hip, staring at Pete like he had the answer.

  “I have no idea.” Pete shrugged.

  “I think it’s sweet,” Olivia added. “Ooh, I’m going to miss you all so much.”

  Just like that, the conversation changed. Charlie handed the heavy trunk off to one of the train porters, then stepped over to his wife to slip an arm around her waist.

  “Good friends are never far away, my dear,” he promised her. “And what with all the marvels of the modern world, you’ll be free to send a telegram whenever you’d like, or even visit Pete and Josephine by train.”

  Olivia softened to a smile. “That would be wonderful.”

  Prickles broke out down Pete’s back. It would be wonderful, but Charlie had made one great, whopping assumption in his statement. “I’m not so sure where I’ll be settling,” he said, mumbling a little too much.

  “Oh?” Olivia blinked between Pete and Josephine. “Not in Oregon City, then?”

  “My niece is still expecting me in Denver City,” Josephine said, her smile gone tight.

  “And who knows, maybe I’ll head down California way to see if any of those old gold mines need a spare set of hands.”

  Silence fell over their group. Olivia shot a confused look to Charlie. Charlie smirked and turned to Pete. Josephine clasped her hands in front of her, lowering her head. Dangit, but the whole combination of unspoken speeches fired up a hefty shot of guilt in Pete’s gut.

  “You know you’re all welcome in Wyoming.” It was Graham who broke the awkward silence. He strode into the
group from the other side of the wagon.

  Pete scrambled for a way to steer the conversation away from uncomfortable territory. “Boy, Graham, you sure are getting the hang of that false leg Gideon constructed for you.” Graham had been alternating between the false leg their scientist friend, Gideon, had constructed on the trail to replace the leg he’s lost in the war and his usual crutches to get around since arriving in Oregon City. “Anyone who didn’t know would think you’d never fought in the war.”

  The grin that lit Graham’s face belied that he knew exactly what Pete was up to with the comment. Graham slapped Pete on the back. “I’m building up my strength so I can dance with Estelle at your wedding.”

  Another hard, awkward silence fell. Graham and Charlie both looked as though they were having a hard time not bursting into laughter. Even Olivia, through all her emotion at leaving her friends, couldn’t suppress a smile.

  When it had gone on too long, Josephine huffed, “Really.” She shook her head, grabbed Olivia’s arm, and dragged her away from the men, up onto the train platform where Estelle was buying a stick of rock candy from a vendor for Tim.

  Pete scowled at both Graham and Charlie. “That was uncalled for.”

  “Why?” Graham laughed.

  “He hasn’t mustered the courage to ask for Josephine’s hand yet,” Charlie said.

  “And I’m not going to,” Pete added, glowering.

  Graham swayed back in surprise. “No, really?”

  “That’s what he keeps saying.” Charlie laughed.

  “I’m a little long in the tooth to be thinking about getting married for the first time,” Pete insisted.

  Graham snorted and Charlie just shook his head.

  “I can’t even find a job,” Pete went on.

  Charlie waved the argument away. “Don’t worry about that.” He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and took out a billfold. “How much do you need to set up a cozy home for yourself and the lovely Josephine? Josiah Hurst left me more than enough money to spread some around to my friends.”

  He opened his billfold and began counting out cash, but Pete held up a hand, scowl darkening.

  “I’ve got more than enough cash to keep me out of trouble for the rest of my life,” he said.

  Charlie paused in his counting. “How much is enough?”

  “Enough to get by on in relative comfort.”

  Both Charlie and Graham looked completely flummoxed.

  “Then why not find a nice little house somewhere, put down roots, and pop the question?” Graham asked.

  Pete sighed. “Haven’t you been listening? Josephine has her niece in Denver City.”

  “Then settle in Denver City,” Charlie said.

  “I’m sure the Chance children would love Denver City,” Graham added.

  “And there’s another impossibility,” Pete railed on, losing his temper to hide the gaping well of guilt in his soul. “I’m too old to become a father.”

  “I think nature would disagree with you there,” Charlie chuckled. “Why, I knew a fellow back in St. Louis—Brendon McGee was his name—who sired a set of triplets when he was seventy-five years old.”

  “Good lord.” Graham winced. “How much younger than him was his poor wife?”

  Charlie lost a bit of his smirk. “Younger than I want to think about.”

  “There you go.” Pete nodded. “Josephine is over ten years younger than me.”

  “Ten years is nothing,” Charlie scoffed. “Particularly when you’ve both done your fair share of living already.”

  “Easy for you to say.”

  “Yes, it is easy for us to say.” Graham followed Pete’s glum comment. “Easy for us to say because all this time we’ve been assuming that your intentions toward Josephine Lewis were honorable.”

  “They are honorable,” Pete insisted. “I’m doing right by her by not saddling her with an old gelding like me.”

  “You’re behaving like either a dumb chicken or a stubborn, frightened schoolboy,” Charlie insisted. Before Pete could tell him off, he went on with, “Olivia and I both assumed you and Josephine would be making a home for those Chance kids. It’s what they deserve.”

  “It’s what you all deserve,” Graham added.

  “And I say every one of them deserves better.” Pete didn’t want to hear another shred of argument.

  “Then you’re a fool,” Charlie told him with a smile. “But you’re my friend.”

  “All aboard!”

  The stationmaster’s call ended the argument then and there. Pete was more than relieved. When Charlie started toward the platform, he and Graham followed. Pete helped Graham up the steps.

  “You both are my friend,” Charlie reiterated his sentiment as they joined Olivia, Josephine, Estelle, and Tim by the side of the train. His statement was clearly for Pete and Josephine as a group. “Friends may part ways now and then, but we’ll always meet again.”

  “Hopefully in Wyoming,” Estelle added.

  “We’re determined to get you to accept Gideon and Lucy’s offer to settle out there.” Graham walked to stand by Estelle’s side. “All of you,” he added with a pointed look for Pete.

  “You never know what the future will bring,” Olivia said.

  The women exchanged hugs as tears began to flow. Pete shook Charlie’s hand, bearing his friend no ill will. The man was nosy and opinionated, but he had been a good and true friend throughout the entire trail journey, and Pete wasn’t about to forget that.

  They stood back and watched as the train finished loading, then as it chugged into motion. Tim covered his ears as the shrill whistle sounded, getting his gooey rock candy in his hair in the process. Estelle laughed indulgently, everything about her filled with love for the boy she and Graham had adopted. As Estelle and Graham headed off the platform and back to the hotel where they could wash Tim’s hair, strange, wiggly feelings of possibility squirmed in Pete’s stomach. If Graham—an ex-soldier with one leg—could marry a woman and adopt a child, maybe he could too.

  “Come on,” Pete muttered, offering Josephine his arm. “We’ve got that orphanage place to look at.”

  “It’s not so much an orphanage as a woman who takes orphans in,” Josephine explained, her voice wistful. She took his arm, and the two of them stepped off the platform and headed down the hill toward the river.

  Fool that he was, Pete slowed their steps to a comfortable amble. He was in no more hurry to investigate the orphanage than he was to say his final goodbyes to Josephine. But at the same time, he couldn’t think of a blasted thing to say to her.

  She saved him the trouble when, several long minutes later, she asked, “Do you think we’ll meet again?”

  “Again?” He attempted a laugh, as if she was joking. “We haven’t parted in the first place.”

  Josephine answered with an uncomfortable laugh. “I mean, after. After I go to Denver City and you…you go wherever it is you’re going.”

  Pete shrugged. “Who knows? It’s an awful big country.”

  “I know. I’ve just walked across most of it.”

  He had to smile at her joke. As awkward as everything had gotten between them, she still managed to joke.

  “And the children,” she went on. “Do you think we’ll see them again?”

  And that was no joke. Pete sighed. “Children have a way of growing up. I think Libby’s already there, and Luke isn’t so far behind. The real question might be whether they’ll ever see each other again.”

  Seconds after the words were out, Pete regretted every one. Josephine not only stopped smiling, she turned pale.

  “I hadn’t thought of that, but you’re right.” She swallowed hard. “Who will keep those dear, sweet children together as a family with the older two grown up and on their own?”

  I should. I really should . The words echoed in Pete’s head, heart, and gut. And for a change, a thousand arguments didn’t spring up to fight the resolution away. What if everyone else was right and
he was the one being a fool?

  They turned a corner and walked on, but inside, Pete had a feeling the winds of fate had changed.

  After the goodbye scene at the train, Josephine wasn’t certain if she should be sad or embarrassed or…or hopeful.

  “Mrs. Fielding’s house is right down this way,” she told Pete, ignoring the way he walked close by her side, the way he held her arm…the way he had all but told their friends he wouldn’t marry her. Who could doubt that’s what he meant when he said he would look for work in California while she went to Denver City?

  Of course, she half agreed with his reasons for going their separate ways. Half . But he didn’t have to go saying it in front of everyone. That made things so…so…official. As though they were officially not official.

  She huffed out a breath latent with confusion and frustration.

  “What?” Pete stood straighter by her side. “Looks like a nice enough neighborhood to me.”

  She glanced askance at him, trying to judge if he was deflecting her burst of emotion or if he really thought her huff was for the neighborhood they found themselves in. His expression was neutral. Too neutral.

  Well, there was no point trying to untie the Gordian knot they’d wrapped themselves into.

  “It looks like a lovely, quaint neighborhood,” she said, glancing around. “Quiet.”

  Indeed, the houses in this part of town looked newer, well cared for. The whitewash was nearly spotless, and the gardens out front were tidy and colorful. They were close enough to the river to see a few barges and other small crafts passing down the waterway, drifting on to the seaports several miles on.

  “This must be a convenient spot for trade,” Josephine went on when Pete failed to add any sort of comment. “What with the way the river flows.”

  “Hmm,” Pete grunted.

  “And look, there goes a barge filled with logs. I bet whichever river this is runs clear up into some fine forest country.”

  “Willamette,” Pete said.