Why did she look for him so often? She told herself it was because he was Ezra’s brother, but she knew different. She’d never met such an open man before, or heard of a wagon master so concerned about each person under his care. Not that she’d met many, but Ezra mentioned to her that a few years ago an elderly gentleman told him during a game of cards that wagon masters were only interested in the money they received. That description didn’t fit Zeke.
During her thoughts, she hadn’t realized her steps had slowed until the goat bleated. She reached over to pet Mabel, glad she’d agreed to bring her along. The milk helped keep the babies healthy, and Mabel’s kid kept the little ones entertained with its frolicking. Delly smiled. And there was a jar of cream hanging from the wagon top jostling its way to butter as they bounced over ruts. She’d always been good at coming up with ways of making do, and they could use some of the butter to trade when they came across a trading post.
She pushed back her bonnet in an effort to catch a breeze. How could the nights be cool and the days so hot?
A young man rode by and it took a minute for Delly to recognize her oldest son beneath the scrap of fabric he wore on his face. “What is that, Junior?”
He jogged up to her and removed it from the lower half of his face then handed it to her. “It’s called a ban-dan-a. The drovers wear ‘em to keep from eating dirt. Hiram showed it to me. He’s teaching me to scout some too. When I’m bigger, I might lead wagon trains from Missouri to Oregon too.”
Delly turned the square fabric over in her hands. It mostly resembled a colored handkerchief. She could make these out of scrap fabric from her quilting stash and help keep her and Sadie from getting grit in their teeth. Wouldn’t they be a sight in their bonnets and face rags? Maybe she’d make one for the children, too. They’d look like a family of bandits, sure enough. She handed it back to her son.
“Uncle Zeke said we’re stopping for the day.” Junior’s eyes sparkled as he retied his bandana. “He’s leading us a mile west to find grass to graze the cattle on. Do you want me to lead Blue?”
“Please. And keep an eye on the little ones. Sadie and I will catch up.” Knowing a few hours of rest loomed before her put a skip in Delly’s step as she scampered back to the wagon seat.
“Are we stopping?” Sadie handed over the reins.
“Yes. We’ll have time to make bread and beat the dust out of our clothes.” Maybe spare a little water to watch their faces. Delly swiped her arm across her forehead and grimaced at the grime. She’d been dirty before, but never like this. The dirt settled everywhere. Her teeth, her eyes, her hair, even managing to find its way down her dress to coat her body. What she wouldn’t give for a bath.
Sure enough, Zeke circled the wagons in an area that, while not lushly covered with grass, had enough for the animals to graze. To Delly’s delight, a small brook trickled through low-lying bushes. While she couldn’t manage a full fledged soak, at the very least she could indulge in a sponge bath.
She climbed down to start a fire, leaving the unhitching of the oxen to Zeke’s hired help. She peeled the gloves from her hands and winced at the new blisters forming in spite of the protective leather. She’d need to nurse her hands while changing the bandage on Ruth’s foot.
After helping the little girl from the wagon, Delly settled her on a three-legged stool beside the fire and set a pot of water to boil. Leaving Ruth to wait, she went to rummage through the wagon’s contents in search of salve for her hands. When she returned, Mrs. Miller and two other women waited with crossed arms.
“Afternoon, ladies.” Delly raised her eyebrows in question.
“Mrs. Williams.” Mrs. Miller spat the words as if they left a bitter taste in her mouth. “We have some concerns that need to be addressed.”
Delly dropped the salve into the pocket of her apron. Her hands, unfortunately, would have to wait. “The water’s almost ready. Can I interest you in some coffee?”
“No, thank you.” Mrs. Miller’s ice-blue eyes glanced at her companions then back to Delly. “Being upright, God-fearing women, we have an issue with an unmarried woman, widowed or not, living in such close proximity with an unmarried man. Not to mention the colored girl with you. This men of this train don’t need the temptation.”
Delly sighed and scratched her eyebrow, then stared at the dirt under her fingernails. How did Mrs. Miller always look so fresh? Did the woman ride in the wagon all day? She sighed.
It wasn’t Delly’s unmarried state that bothered the woman, just Delly herself, cooking and cleaning for the man Mrs. Miller had set her sights on. Fine, she’d play the woman’s childish game.
With a cool smile, she glanced up. “Well, Mr. Williams did propose to me. I said no, but maybe I should reconsider his offer if it bothers you women so badly. I thought Sadie would be sufficient chaperonage, but maybe I was wrong.” Delly ducked her head to hide her smile. “I do need to think of the children, after all. Being a widowed mother, I can’t care for them by myself.” Lord, forgive her, but she enjoyed the draining of blood from Mrs. Miller’s face. She’d never had time for small-minded people who couldn’t keep their noses out of other people’s business.
The woman’s mouth gaped like a beached fish. “He proposed?”
“Why, yes, just the other day.” Delly scooped coffee grounds into the water then set a smaller pot to boil which she would use to clean Ruth’s foot.
Ruth sat with wide eyes and glanced back and forth between Delly and Mrs. Miller. “Is Uncle Zeke going to be my new pa?”
“Possibly. Let’s unwrap that dirty bandage, shall we?” She speared her visitors with a sharp glare. “Now, if there isn’t anything else I can help you with, I need to tend to my daughter.”
She watched them march away. “Of all the insufferable—”
“What was that all about?” Zeke asked from behind her.
###
“You heard?” Delly straightened, her face pale, dirty bandages fluttering from her hands like flags.
“I did.” Zeke removed his hat and took his time hanging it on a hook in the wagon bed. Was it possible Delly was reconsidering his offer despite the heated discussion of a few days ago? He’d made a purpose to give her a wide berth unless absolutely necessary, but couldn’t help seeking her out with his gaze when he passed.
Wasn’t every day a man laid eyes on a woman with eyes the color of a stormy sky and hair as dark as a moonless night. No, Ezra struck gold when he married such a fetching woman. Especially one unafraid of hard work.
“Don’t worry.” She knelt in the dirt and took Ruth’s foot in her lap. “I have no intentions of stepping on anyone’s toes. Feel free to court Mrs. Miller. She’s quite lovely.”
“Ha!”
Delly glanced up. “You don’t think so?”
“I have no intentions of courting anyone.” Zeke pulled up a stool. “There isn’t time in my life right now for a family.”
“You don’t want us?” Tears welled in Ruth’s eyes.
Zeke held up a hand. “Wait, that isn’t what—”
“There’s where you’re wrong, Mr. Williams.” Delly washed Ruth’s foot then pulled the jar of salve from her pocket. “You have a family, for now at least, whether you want one or not.”
“That isn’t what I meant.” Why couldn’t he speak a coherent sentence around this woman? She barely reached his shoulder when they stood side-by-side, yet the very sight of her intimidated him.
“If it’s a wife you don’t have time for…” She spread salve on Ruth’s foot then wrapped it with a clean bandage. “Then you might want to let the single ladies know. I don’t think they have a clue.” She cupped Ruth’s cheek. “Let Uncle Zeke take you back to the wagon, all right? Your foot looks good. Healing real nice.”
“We’ll continue this discussion later.” Zeke scooped his niece in his arms.
“There’s nothing to discuss.” Delly stood. “Neither of us is interested in getting hitched. I want to get my family to Oregon and ge
t settled. Unfortunately, I need your help to do that.”
“Then you’ll send me on my way.”
“Not too far, obviously. Our land juts against each other, I assume.” She bent and lifted the blue-speckled tin pot. “Coffee?”
Zeke growled and stomped to the wagon. After settling his niece inside, he leaned his head against the rough wood.
“Uncle Zeke?”
He lifted his head and gazed into the hazel eyes of his oldest nephew. “Something wrong, Junior?”
“No, sir, but I’m wondering if I can put the pup in the wagon tomorrow. He don’t weigh much and his little paws are getting bloody from trying to keep up.”
Zeke couldn’t resist Junior’s imploring eyes. “Sure. His mother can too, since the little ones ride the mule. But your ma might get upset if they leave a mess.”
“They won’t. They’re good dogs!” Junior stretched over the tail of the wagon and handed the puppy to Ruth before galloping away.
Zeke envied the boy his childishness. At the age of twelve, chances were good he’d be acting like a grown man by the time they reached Oregon. He glanced at the little family gathering around the lunch fire. Would he lose one of them on the way? Most likely. What if he lost Delly? How would he care for five children on his own?
If someone would’ve told him a year ago he’d be responsible for another family, he’d have told them to jump off the highest cliff. Since he’d lost his wife, he’d vowed never to be personally responsible for a woman and child again. At least not on the trail. No help for it. God saw fit to land Delly and the little ones in his lap.
He patted Ruth’s cheek and smiled at the sight of her nuzzling the pup. “I’ll bring you something to eat. Stay off that foot as long as you can.”
She nodded, and giggling, fell back onto the mattress with her new furry friend. Zeke watched for a minute, relishing in the childhood abandon of a child with a puppy. Please, God, let my family make it through.
“Mr. Williams. Zeke.”
He closed his eyes and cringed before turning to face Mrs. Miller. “Is there a problem?”
“No.” She glanced down, then coyly up, fluttering her lashes. “I came to invite you to eat at our fire.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Miller, but that won’t be necessary any longer.” He grabbed his hat. “I have my own fire now.” Not that the woman wasn’t lovely; tall, slim, hair the color of corn silk and blue eyes that always looked wet, but she didn’t compare to the petite, raven-haired Delly. Nor, he’d wager, would she feel as good in his arms as Delly had during their horse ride. Even angry, Delly fit as if God created her to be there. Too bad he wasn’t prepared to take a wife. Obviously, something some women didn’t understand.
Mrs. Miller’s full lip quivered. “Can’t you call me Sophia? I believe we know each other well enough.”
Well enough? A lump the size of Missouri lodged in his throat. The woman counted a few suppers on the trail as knowing her well enough? “Okay, Sophia, but really, Sadie and Delly will have our own supper prepared soon enough. There’s no need for me to eat your supplies. They need to last you for months.”
She sashayed closer and toyed with the buttons on his shirt. “Money isn’t an issue with the Oglesby family, Zeke. We can purchase more supplies.”
“Please, Sophia.” Sweat peppered his brow. He removed her hands and stepped back until the wagon wheel pressed against his spine, leaving him feeling like a bug caught in a Black Widow’s web. “You need to transfer your attentions somewhere else.” On some other poor unsuspecting fool.
She sighed. “If you say so. I’ll speak with you tomorrow.”
Zeke released a deep breath and turned toward his fire. Delly glared after Sophia with crossed arms.
6
After washing in the shallow creek, Delly sat on a boulder a small distance from camp. A mild breeze teased at her wet hair, cooling her head. She stared across the prairie.
The sight of Sophia Miller cozying up to Zeke left a bitter taste in her mouth. With the way the blood drained from his face, Zeke obviously didn’t return her feelings, so why didn’t he make her stay away? Men were such easy creatures to manipulate. If Zeke weren’t careful, he’d find himself with a bride whether he wanted one or not. One word from Sophia that Zeke toyed with her affections and Mr. Oglesby would most likely come visiting armed with a gun.
Muted conversation from the supper fire drifted her way. Zeke’s laughter rang out, and she turned to see what was going on. Junior jumped up to pantomime something. His shadow danced on the ground. Delly should’ve joined them, but regardless of how much she loved the children, moments of peace and quiet were as precious as the gold foretold in California’s streams.
Instead of the peace she craved, she focused on her feelings for someone she would never have. If only their land wouldn’t sit next to each other. She wasn’t foolish enough to think she wouldn’t require Zeke’s help in settling. She couldn’t build a cabin by herself, after all. But once they had a home, a garden planted, and livestock, she’d rely on him no more.
The guidebook spouted pages of promises about fertile Oregon land. Anything could grow there. Delly wanted to plant an apple orchard and sell her produce. Stashed in her chest was a gourd set aside for that purpose. Surely there would be a market for the bounty from her garden as more and more people settled the area.
With sure steps, and a straight back, she moved to rejoin the others, taking a seat across the fire from Zeke. Seconds later, she rethought her decision.
The fire cast shadows across his face and danced in the reflection from his eyes. Delly grabbed a stick and poked at the embers. Anything so she wouldn’t have to look at him. Sparks shot into the sky to join the stars.
“Tell us about your travels, Uncle Zeke.” Junior sat cross-legged at his feet. “Pa said you dug for gold once upon a time. Found some too.”
Zeke removed a blade of prairie grass from his teeth. “Not me. Your Uncle Rupert did. I lived in Arkansas at the time. Scraped out a modest living in the rich soil. When Uncle Rupert struck gold, he sent for me—” He cleared his throat. “I went to join him, then ended up in Oregon instead. Claimed land for your Pa and I.”
“Is that where Pa disappeared to? Is that where he was when Ma died?”
“Yeah. He came back as quick as we got word. But it was a long journey.” Zeke stretched his long legs in front of him. “He came home to tend to you youngsters.”
Junior shoveled the last of the beans in the pot onto a plate. “We lived with the neighbors for six months.”
“I’m real sorry about that.” Zeke ruffled Junior’s hair.
What kind of man left his wife and five children behind to hunt for gold? Delly tossed a handful of sticks on the fire. The man she married, that’s who. The same man who went gambling the day after their wedding. She’d been a blind fool, wanting nothing more than a permanent roof over her head. Would anyone ever love her for her?
She transferred her gaze to Zeke. What would it be like to be married to someone honest and trustworthy? She’d probably never know. Because she’d never marry for anything less than love again. She didn’t care if the man was poor and they lived in a tent.
“What made you become a wagon master?” Junior scraped his plate clean with the last biscuit.
“I found God in Oregon, heard how many people die with each journey, and figured I could help people by taking wagon trains west. So, I hired myself the best guide I could fine, and here I am.” He glanced at Delly. “But I’m thinking this will be my last trip.” He winked.
Her face heated. Why must he torment her? Hadn’t she made her intentions clear? And not just her, but those of the widow Miller left little doubt as to what she wanted.
The sound of a fiddle being tuned drifted across the circle. Zeke glanced that way. “There’ll be dancing once in a while. When folks have cause to celebrate. Do you dance, Delly?”
“Never had the opportunity.” She choked on the words. There hadn’
t even been dancing at their wedding. Instead, Ezra held her hand in front of a preacher, the five children in a line behind them. No sense dwelling on things she couldn’t change. She’d gotten hitched with her eyes open. Ezra needed a ma for his kids, she wanted a permanent roof over her head. Her mouth twisted. Instead, she got stars in her eyes that quickly faded.
###
As one-by-one, Hiram and Melvin headed to the stock, and Sadie ushered the children into the wagon, Zeke licked his lips, digging up courage from deep within. He locked gazes with Delly. “Since neither of us is looking to be hitched, do you think we could be friends? Like we would be if Ezra were still alive?”
“I suppose we could.” She glanced toward Sadie and the children. “It would make life easier on everyone. The young’uns like having their uncle around, and Junior needs a father figure.”
Zeke almost changed his mind right then and there. He was the furthest thing from a father figure as anyone he knew. What kind of example was a man that traveled back and forth across the country each year? Children needed stability. Structure. Sure, he had plans to stay and set down roots, but what if he couldn’t? What if the life of a rancher bored him? He forced a smile. “Good night, Delly.” He watched her until she climbed into the wagon and disappeared.
With camp sounds quieting, Zeke spread his bedroll beneath the wagon and stretched out. He glanced to the one where Delly and the children slept. Father figure, huh? He snorted. Maybe someday, but this wasn’t the day.
7
“Why are we stopping now?” Delly’s shoulders slumped. Seemed every time she turned around they stopped for some reason. “We just got started today. We’ll never reach Laramie by June at this rate.” She handed the reins to Sadie and leaned over the side of the wagon. “Junior! Run up ahead and see what the hold up is, would you?” She wrapped her shawl tighter around her.
“It’s cold for May, isn’t it? I’m glad we had the foresight to stock up on wood. There wasn’t any around this morning. No buffalo chips either.” Not that Delly wanted to use any. “I look forward to a hot meal when the temperature drops like this.”
Woman of Courage (Four Full length Historical Christian Romances in One Volume): Woman of Courage Series Page 5
